


Easy to be Good

by jeejaschocolate



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, All kinds of kinks, Awkwardness, BDSM, Begging, Big/Little Play, Bondage, Comfort, Coming In Pants, Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Emotionally Repressed, Emotions, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing, Impact Play, Kink Negotiation, Kinks, Kissing, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Pining, Praise Kink, Rare Pair, Rough play, Safe Sane and Consensual, Self Esteem Issues, Sex Toys, Subspace, Surprise watersports, agonizing, littlespace, pre-game, shaming, sub!gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-07-20 23:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16147886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeejaschocolate/pseuds/jeejaschocolate
Summary: (Written for the kinkmeme)He’s weird like this. Yeah. Gavin isn’t going to pretend he’s something else, because he’s been like this for so long it’s part of who he is.It’s just never something he thought he’d share with Hank Anderson. Of all people.…That prick.





	1. Ride it out

**Author's Note:**

> I was thirsty for some real talk daddy kink so I posted [this prompt on the kink meme](https://dbh-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/717.html?thread=36813#cmt36813). Turns out, I already had a pretty good idea the way something like this should go so I’m just filling it myself. Yolo ;) ;) ;) Also, I'm kind of shocked this hasn't been done before?? Has it?? Because it needs to be a thing!!
> 
> Yeah, yeah I know. It’s me and I have this daddy/mommy thing. But hear me out on this one guys! There’s potential here… okay I’ll just stop and get to the pron. 
> 
> This fic takes place pre-game and pre-Connor. (But that doesn’t mean we love you any less, soft android boy.)

He’s not at the point where it freaks him out anymore. Nope, he’s way past that. Gavin has been on the scene for years. Since he graduated high school, that weird year when he turned 18 and his foster parents cut him loose. Gavin drifted a lot that year, apartment to apartment. Sleeping around just for a place to stay until he earned enough cash at his part time job (cleaning tables at the diner) to get his own place. 

Even then, when he barely had a pot to piss in, Gavin was into the kink scene. Big guys. Much bigger, much older. Telling him what to do. Tying him up, or tying him down. Spitting on his face when he came.

Hurting him. Bad sometimes.

Bringing him to a point where nothing mattered except his body. The more it hurt, the more they treated him like scum, the better it was. Because that was the worst. The worst treatment, the worst humiliation, the worst everything. Gavin was used to the worst. His life, from the time he was six and his mom ODed, was basically just one big worst case scenario. He was comfortable there. If he was at the worst, then he didn’t have to wait for the other shoe to drop. Didn’t have to think. He could just let himself feel good and listen to whatever his dom told him to do. 

Little by little though, the scene started getting taken over by androids. People said androids made the best doms. Gavin didn’t think so. He tried it a few times with a Traci his favorite club decided to buy. Some android twice the size of Gavin wearing leather pants. Guy who held a whip like it was a garden tool. Ready to get to work, not really owning it. Just doing a goddamn job. 

It felt fake. Store-bought shit. Like somebody looked up what rough play was supposed to look like and then programmed an android to do exactly that. Scripted. 

No good. Didn’t get him off the way he wanted. Didn’t satisfy the ache in his bones that needed an older man to tell him he was a piece of shit. Didn’t make him feel weightless. A point where the itchiness in his veins died down and he could finally breathe for five fucking seconds. The cold plastic arms of an android couldn’t be his…

…whatever. His dom, his top. All that shit. 

These days, there were hardly any strictly human clubs left. It was bullshit. The only way Gavin could get off was by playing his luck with Grindr and apps like that. Sure there were some built older dudes on there, but. Hardly any guys wanted to play like he did. 

Gavin was out of luck. Kinksters these days just wanted to play with toys. Having sex with something that was basically the full-bodied equivalent of a fucking smartphone.

Gavin was never into toys. 

He knew exactly what he was into. Androids weren’t it.

He liked what he liked. No point wondering why and all that pain in the ass stuff. This was just who he was. He hadn’t changed even when he became a cop. Of course, he liked keeping his two worlds separate—there was work and then there was sex. Better that way. But he’d never change. He’d never stop being what he was. 

And that was the problem. He needed to find a reliable way to get off. Seriously. Like he actually really needed it. He was smoking more without it. And that shit was bad for his lungs. Plus it was getting really hard to concentrate at work. He was usually a prick—being an asshole was better than being looked down on or mowed over. And it was either one or the other, so. Gavin made sure everyone knew he was an asshole. Still, these days he went out of his way to be a prick. Just because he couldn’t get the urge to _fucking do something_ out of his head.

Some people were drug addicts; Gavin was addicted to being topped. Hard and rough. Stepped on and slapped, pushed to his knees. Begging. Pleading. Taking dick so far down his throat he had trouble talking the next day.

Tch. The drug addicts had it easier. Detroit was swimming in red ice but old fashioned, bonafide leather daddies? Drier than the goddamn Mojave. 

Gavin was shit out of luck.

______________________________________________

“Tch.” 

Gavin folded his jacket (cheap ass leather, probably plastic) tighter around his chest and took another drag. What was this, his fifth cigarette of the day? Maybe his sixth? Whatever, he’d lost count. Not like it mattered anyway. 

He was huddled underneath the awning of Grey Dog, a bar on eighth avenue. It was raining like a bastard that night, and Gavin was getting pelted with back-splatter even from where he stood. Cold as fuck. Wet. Miserable. Detroit was really just a bullshit town. Why did people live here again? 

Tapping his foot irritably, Gavin polished off the rest of his cigarette in three long puffs. He really, really need a smoke—had been about to jump out of his skin in there—but he didn’t want to get any more soaked than he already was. His shitty work shoes were already on their last legs. No sense pushing it further.

He flicked the butt out into the street, watching it extinguish in a puddle. Time to go back in and…what, like. Socialize or whatever. Gavin squinted and ran a twitchy hand through his hair. He felt a little calmer now after that cigarette, but. This still wasn’t his scene. He hated socializing as a thing, hated almost everyone at work, and hated drinking with a bunch of old fucks who just wanted to reminisce about old cases. 

He couldn’t believe he’d let Chris talk him into coming out tonight. 

They were all overworked at the station. The past few months more deviancy cases had been cropping up. Nobody really knew how to handle them. It meant androids getting deactivated, or just straight up shot in the street. Now there were even cases of people dying. _People_ getting killed by _androids_. On purpose. 

It was a fucked up world out there. And Gavin couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe people actually deserved all this. They’d gone and made androids in the first place as nothing but servants. Given them all types of…upgrades and shit like that. Now that the androids were going off the grid, could anyone really be surprised they were pissed? 

Still. If (and when) it came to an uprising, hell if Gavin wasn’t going to fight back. He wasn’t going to let anyone—didn’t matter how advanced or whatever the hell model or code these machines had been programmed with—get the drop on him. If they wanted to go? Fine. He was fucking ready. 

The department had given him a gun for a reason. 

So yeah, the mood at the station had been pretty grim. Everyone was just kind of waiting for things to get worse. Dragging themselves through case after case, trying to give the android cases as wide of a berth as they could. Sort of helpless. It drove Gavin crazy. He hated the powerlessness. The feeling of stagnancy. It went against everything about him. His anathema. 

(And he hadn’t been laid in almost a month. An all-time low.) 

When Chris came over to him at lunch and told him he and a few of the guys were going to Grey Dog if he wanted to come with, Gavin’s immediate reaction was a sputtering snort and a “Hell no.” 

“Come on, man, just be there for like an hour.” Chris was giving him his ‘okay I know you’re an asshole but even for you this a lot’ kind of look. “I’m trying to convince my girlfriend I’m not turning into an alcoholic and if I go out with those other guys it looks real bad for me. But if you’re there…” 

“Who else is going?” Gavin asked, although he already had an idea. 

Chris sighed. “Ben and Anderson, maybe a few other guys. Trying to get Tina to go.”

Well. If Chris didn’t want his girlfriend thinking he was an alky, he was hanging out with the wrong crowd. Anderson was noticeably drunk almost all the time, even at work, and Ben wasn’t usually too far behind him there. Tina wasn’t so bad, except when she went out. Then she usually got so drunk she threw up; it was kind of her reputation. That’s why her wife kept her on a tight leash. Tina was probably having a bitch of a time convincing her to let her out for the night. 

Gavin wrinkled his nose in disgust. Drunks, all of them. This whole fucking station. Nothing but drunks. 

Gavin hated drunks. Almost as much as he hated stagnancy. He’d been around addicts his whole life—no shit—but drunks were the worst. Slow and stupid. Sick. The fact that alcohol was legal made the addiction all the worse in Gavin’s opinion. 

As for himself, Gavin only got drunk if it was a real party. He was no alky. Didn’t do drugs. Hardly smoked (or mostly). The only thing he was addicted to was…well, yeah, _that_. 

“How about this.” Chris was bartering with him now. “I’ll pay for all your drinks, okay? It’s on me tonight.” His eyes cut to the side and he lowered his voice. “Just don’t tell Anderson or Ben because…yeah, I’m not trying to go broke.”

Gavin smirked at that. Yeah, no shit, covering those guys for the night? Chris would go home without a dollar to his name and then he’d be in real deep shit. But still, it was a nice offer.

And…eh, Gavin actually liked Chris. He was good at his job. Didn’t talk too much at crime scenes, let Gavin do all the detective stuff. They got along fairly well even considering all the shit Gavin did to get people to leave him along. He didn’t have friends, as a rule—the fuck was the point of friends? Everyone was a piece of shit, no one ever really had your back, that was all lies—but if he did, Chris would be the closest thing to a friend he had at the station. 

So he agreed. One hour and Chris was covering him for the night. It didn’t sound so terrible. 

Except here they were, already two hours in and no one seemed to be going anywhere. Ben was already sloshed, Chris was slurring his words with no sign of stopping, and Tina was on her third drink. After three drinks she wasn’t wasted, she just laughed a little louder than normal. Annoyingly so. 

The only one surprising Gavin tonight was Anderson. For a guy that usually went balls out pounding them down, he was only on his second drink. He was nursing them. Not drunk, hardly even tipsy. Gavin had never really seen him like that. It was…weird. 

A clear-eyed, non-slurry Hank Anderson. Gavin got a strange vibe from him. Kind of like…like the guy was just sad. Not really angry or pissed off (as was his reputation). It was like he didn’t even have the energy for all that. He was just too sad.

What a fucking downer. 

Gavin didn’t know how to deal with sad people either. They freaked him out. What was the point of being sad? Sadness didn’t change anything. In the end, you just ended up hurting yourself with feelings like that. Gavin didn’t have time for that. He was too busy getting ahead of every other motherfucker out there. Sadness was a waste of time. 

So here he was at Grey Dog trapped between a bunch of drunk losers and one super sad weirdo. He didn’t know which was worse. The shittiest part of all? He couldn’t even go home because…then he’d be the first one calling it quits for the night. That would make him look weak. Gavin didn’t put himself in positions like that. Even if he was still on his first drink, he at least had to make it look like he could go toe to toe with the big boys. So no one could talk shit behind his back later. 

He’d _never_ let himself be the first one to leave. 

Unfortunately that meant he was trapped there. Waiting for one of those sad sacks to finally pack it in. The waiting was making him antsy. As was the shitty brand of conversation. Old cases and sports and old cases and some politics. That was the pattern. 

Gavin wanted to go. He hugged his elbows and thought. 

Maybe…maybe he’d go to the club tonight. Not that it’d even be much fun. He’d probably get stuck with an android again. But the question was…was he getting desperate enough where he’d take it? At least it was some kind of offer, right…? 

Goddamn it all. Gavin dug his fingernails into his palm. Maybe another drink would help. 

Back in the bar, the smell of stale beer and distant unwashed bodies was almost unbearable. A basketball game blared on the TVs and a few people were playing pool in the back. Low, dull conversations could be caught from all angles. Gavin hated places like this. Far from hopping, this place was a few degrees away from death. 

“Took you long enough,” Tina chimed, her cheeks and nose bright red. “You go for a twofer?” 

“Yeah you wish.” Gavin chuckled. It was kind of forced and kind of mean. “Still can’t believe you quit, Chen.” 

Tina shrugged. “It was all those e-cigs. I was on them for a while but then…eh, it just stopped feeling worth it. They don’t fill your lungs up with tar like the originals, you know?” 

Oh hell yeah did Gavin know. That was the same reason he hadn’t gone for the e-cigs. Nothing beat rat poison in your lungs. He nodded, downing the rest of his drink. He promptly made a signal to the bartender for another one. 

“I still can’t believe you guys smoke,” Chris pointed out. “It’s 2038.” 

“Everybody’s got to die of something,” Anderson jumped in. What an optimistic outlook; Gavin got that weird vibe again. “Besides, people have been saying shit like that since I was in high school. People are always going to smoke.” 

“Ain’t that the truth.” Ben was sort of slumped over in his chair, but his eyes were still open. He was still very much awake even if he was drunk enough that his body had decided to do its own thing. “Humanity hasn’t learned a hell of a lot over the years. Not nearly as much as it thinks it has.” 

“Yep.” Anderson swirled the liquid in his tumbler but didn’t drink. Just stared at it. The hell was going on with him tonight? 

Anyway, the conversation just got really dark.

“Anyone ever tell you guys to go into comedy?” Gavin said sarcastically. “Seriously, you guys would kill. Think about it.” 

A short round of chuckles echoed around the table. Gavin could be a dick—he actively worked at that—but he could make people laugh sometimes. It was something he prided himself on. 

Huffing around his drunkenness, Ben took another gulp of his drink. “Yeah, right. Comedy clubs. From what I hear, that’s not your scene, Reed.” 

Chris burst out laughing before he realized Gavin was looking at him. Then he quieted down and stared into his drink. 

A shiver ran down Gavin’s back. Just a shiver. Enough to make him square his shoulders. He looked around the table and stared at every one of the people sitting there. No one was making eye contact with him.

The _fuck_? 

Gavin’s jaw worked back and forth. He faced Ben, ready to return the jab. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Ben gave him a pitying look and shook his head. His double chin wagging. “I think you know what I mean.” 

Gavin leaned his elbow on the table. Sounded like Collins wanted to fight. That fucking slug of an old man…what the hell did he think he knew? Some bullshit probably, nothing to do with Gavin. 

But no way was Gavin going to back down either way. Of course not. “No. Actually I really fucking don’t. Why don’t you tell me?” 

“Hey, Gavin, chill man…” Chris chimed softly. Ben wasn’t saying anything.

_Coward_.

“No, no, it’s fine.” The bartender came over with Gavin’s drink. Already riled, Gavin put it on the table without taking a sip. “Just sounds like Collins thinks he knows something. And I’d like to fucking hear what it is. I think that’s fair, right? So go on. What the hell are you trying to say about me?” 

Anderson audibly sighed from across the table. 

Ben was still fixing him with a look of cold pity. Bordering on disgust. _Disgust_. Who the _fuck_ did this guy think he was, looking down on Gavin? If he had any idea—

“Fine.” Ben put his drink down with a clunk. “Club Sanctity. Heard of it? The Angels’ and Devils’ hang out, they call it.”

Oh. Shit. 

That was one of the clubs. _His_ clubs. _The clubs._

Gavin was momentarily speechless. The shiver in his back was now a full-blown ice block, making him lock up in his chair. How the hell did Ben of all people know about a kink club—? 

“My brother-in-law works there as a bouncer on weekends. Says he’s seen you there before.” Ben’s eyebrows wagged meaningfully. “Bunch of times.” 

“Look it doesn’t matter, okay? Let’s just talk about something else…” Chris held up hands and tried to get control of the situation. 

But Tina was finally catching up. She snorted, inching towards her drunk self. “Angels and Devils? What? Is that some kind of a joke? I don’t get it…” 

“Yeah, so I guess that’s your scene, huh, Reed?” Ben was smirking at him now. A shit-eating grin. “No judgement, but uh…guess it must be hard to get your paperwork done sometimes, right? Sitting on your ass after a night like that…”

This time, Chris laughed mid-sip. He had to spit his drink back into his glass and then spent a good minute sputtering and laughing all at the same time.

Chris was laughing at him. Ben too. 

And he _knew_.

No. No no no…no, shit no…

Panic settled low in Gavin’s stomach at the same time a million terrible questions popped up. How long had Ben known? How many people had he told? Did everyone at the station know? Were they all talking about him, about what he was into? Were they all laughing behind his back…saying shit they didn’t even understand, making Gavin look like some kind of…

Pervert. Sicko. Freak.

—he wasn’t—

Those _bastards_. Cowards. Weaklings. Pricks. Stupid fuckers. Gavin would show them! He’d show them, he’d send the whole thing flying back into Ben’s face and then they’d see! Somehow…somehow…

As soon as he got control of his racing heart, his sweaty palms, and his shaking hands. Gavin would show them all. As soon as he absorbed this and got over it…if only he could just get all that shitty stuff out of the way fast—

The conversation kept going on around him. 

“Wait, huh?” Tina was laughing now just because Chris was. “You saying our boy’s got a sore ass?” It dawned on her slowly. “Wait, is that a gay club?” She turned to Gavin, wide-eyed. “I didn’t know you were gay, Reed! Why didn’t you tell me? I asked everyone to go to the Queers in Arms meetings with me and you always turned me down!” 

No, no, fuck! It wasn’t like that! Gavin wasn’t _gay_. Sure, he was into guys, but…he didn’t date. Being gay meant, like, relationships and stuff right? Gavin didn’t do relationships. He was just there for the sex. That hardly counted as a sexual orientation…he had no business getting into the queer representation and activism stuff. He was just…

…a pervert. Fucked up little weirdo that didn’t belong anywhere—

Shit. Shit shit shit shit. 

Digging his fingernails into his thigh, Gavin finally picked up his drink. He downed it like he was dying of thirst. Like it could somehow help him out of this nightmare situation.

“Oh it’s not just a gay club,” Ben continued. Why. _Why?_ “It’s a sex club. An S&M sex club, for people who are into that kind of thing.” 

“ _S &M?_” Tina sputtered. She looked at Gavin as if he were some kind of alien creature. Instead of a guy she’d worked with for nearly five years. “What, really? _You_ , Reed? You’re into that?”

He drank a little more. Would lying work in this situation? He hadn’t even tried lying yet. There was always a chance, and he at least had to make it look like he was defending himself. 

So, he shook his head and said, “Listen, I’ve never even heard of that place. I don’t know what you guys are talking about—”

Brays of laughter assaulted him from all sides. Loudly. Damn, that had been such an obvious lie after way too long of a time. Now he just looked like an idiot. 

“I hear they got android and human employees over there,” Ben continued. His body falling back against his chair like an avalanche. “Sounds like a hell of an operation. Tell us, Reed, what’s it like getting fucked by a Traci?”

No, he didn’t—

“Yeah, I have always kind of wondered.” Chris looked torn between raucous laughter a mystified expression. “Is it really better, you know? Android sex?” 

“It can’t be, right?” Tina said, dropping her voice as if this were a delicate topic. And they hadn’t just roasted Gavin on a spit in front of the whole bar. “I mean, they’re not even real people…” 

“I don’t know. I read an article the other day saying it’s actually like way better, everyone agrees. Buddy of mine swears by it.” Chris was staring into the distance, lost in thought.

Anderson grumbled something no one else could hear.

Taking another gulp, some drink missing his mouth by a mile, Ben went on. “Why don’t you ask your friend over there. Sounds like he has experience. And he’s gone pretty quiet.” He hiccuped a laugh. “But I guess he’s used it. If he’s actually paying people to gag him, I mean.” 

Tina laughed so shrilly that a few heads from nearby tables turned to look. 

Gavin wished he’d never come out tonight. Fuck Chris, the guy who was now openly laughing at him. (This is why Gavin didn’t have friends, damn it.) Fuck all these guys. He wished he could just get up and walk out, as if that would spare him any dignity. He wished he hadn’t even known other people knew about it…now he’d hear whispers everywhere he went. 

“Gagged and tied up…” Ben shook his head, bemused but mocking. “I mean what if you have to scratch an itch or something, you know? Sounds stupid to me.” 

More guffaws.

Fuck this shit.

Gavin wished he wasn’t turning red. He wished that he didn’t feel tears pricking the backs of his eyes. He wished that he didn’t care what these dumb assholes thought. He wished that he didn’t care what anyone thought. 

But he did. He really fucking did, and now he’d have to work three times as hard to prove that he wasn’t a pushover. Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it…it was so unfair! He’d already worked so hard for the reputation he had and he was watching it all come crashing down—

“Eh, what’s the big deal?” 

For a moment, everyone stopped laughing. They were all looking at Anderson—at Hank. He was sitting there, unmoved. Gavin hadn’t been staring at him, but from his face it seemed like he hadn’t laughed at all since the conversation started. He was just as stone-faced as ever. 

Hank shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone’s done some weird shit in the sack before, right? Not like it means anything.” His eyes—they were blue now, Gavin realized, blue and sort of almond shaped, turned down at the edges in perpetual sadness—landed on Gavin. “So Reed’s got a few kinks. Whatever. Don’t we all?” 

Tina giggled sloppily. Settling into her drunkenness. “Here, here. That’s a good attitude, Lieutenant!” 

“Well there’s kinks and then there’s paying people to smack the shit out of you,” Ben countered. “Those are two very different things.” 

“No, not at all.” Hank shook his head. Hair swaying around his chin. “Kinks are kinks. And it ain’t like the vanilla life makes you live longer or some shit.” 

Chris nodded long and slow. “True that, Hank. That is so true.” 

Gavin was still mute and frozen in his chair. He was trying to look at the floor, or to stare blankly at his drink. But he was looking at Anderson from the corner of his eye. 

Anderson was…what? Defending him? Or just standing up for kinks on principle? Either way, it almost pissed Gavin off. Anderson trying to sound all wise and shit! 

Except, Hank had managed to change the conversation around entirely. With just a few offhand comments. It was…well, it was impressive. And Gavin was more than relieved to have the focus switch away from him for a few seconds. He’d take it. 

“Yeah but there’s limits.” Ben was being stubborn. Drunk and stubborn. A losing combination. “You saying you wouldn’t mind if someone you were into wanted to tie you up in the bedroom, Hank? You could just…chalk that up to experience or whatever?” 

Hank scratched an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not saying _that_ , but…” He considered for a moment. Then he frowned. “But yeah. You know what? Why not. Maybe it’s the best shit ever, who knows. Haven’t tried it, so I can’t say I don’t like it.” 

“So you’d try anything once, huh?” Chris was honestly asking. As if he admired Anderson in a way. Actually that was probably true. He did. 

“Look, all I’m saying is,” Hank laid his hands on the table. Calling for an unspoken truce. “We’re all looking for a bit of comfort in this shitty world. That’s all anyone wants. So if it’s not hurting someone, what’s the difference how you get off? As long as it’s legal and consensual, I got no problems."

“Ah, Hank Anderson, speaker of truths!” Tina grabbed Hank by the shoulders and pulled him into an awkward half-hug. “My sexual hero!” 

“Alright, alright.” Anderson gently righted Tina in her chair. Holding her shoulder to keep her in place. “Just don’t let your wife hear you say that.” 

“Oooh, you’re absolutely right.” Remembering herself, she checked her phone for the time. “And speaking of, I need to get going. It’s late already.” She threw some cash on the table and stood up. Almost fell, then tried again. “Whoops…” 

Anderson pulled out his own wallet as well. “You know what, Tina, I’ll take a cab with you.” He put down a few twenties. Probably more than what he owed. 

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that, Lieutenant…” Tina tried to argue, waving her hand. But she was holding her head in one hand. Already looked green around the gills. 

No way she was getting home on her own. Not without throwing up in the cab on the way back. Or giving fucked up directions to the automated car and winding up in the ass end of nowhere at the wrong time of night. 

“It’s fine. You’re right, it’s late. I was ready to head out anyway.” Hank stood up. “Just let me stop by the bathroom and then we’ll leave together, okay?” 

Gavin gritted his teeth as he looked at Hank. What a fucking stand up guy. Sticking up for Gavin for no reason and then volunteering to see Tina home safely, even if meant she threw up on him in the car. Fucking prick. What a fake, what a…

…But Gavin had never seen this side of Hank before. The sad side, a part that just leeched all the fun out of absolutely everything. But then there was—

Like. Nice stuff too. 

“Tch.” Gavin leapt to his feet in complete rage. What a fucking joke! Hank Anderson wasn’t a good guy—he was barely sober nine out of ten days! He wasn’t even an okay person! 

He was just…

Probably a liar. Probably the worst kind of asshole, the kind that pretended to be nice to you before they turned around and stabbed you in the back.

Gavin hated guys like that most of all. He was pissed off to hell and back—lingering embarrassment from the conversation now turning into something more comfortable: Anger.

He followed Hank into the bathroom. He needed to make a few things clear—because he was pretty sure Hank had just tried to start some shit with him. Or…something. He had that feeling like a fight was brewing, right underneath his skin. Now he was just acting on instinct. 

When he got there, Hank was standing at a urinal. Already mid-stream. From the looks of it, there were no other guys in the bathroom. Just the two of them. 

With that itchiness scratching at his insides, Gavin thought he might as well strike while Anderson’s back was turned. When his guard was down—just walk to him and punch him in the back of the head as hard as he could. Finish it before it even got started.

That would have been the smart thing to do. But Gavin…well, Hank was pissing. Wasn’t there some kind of unspoken rule that guys didn’t fuck with each other at the urinals? Like mutual respect or…some shit like that. It sounded like a low thing to do. Jump a guy when his dick was out. 

Gavin could feel vulnerability radiating off Hank in waves. That was a new feeling. Hank was almost never vulnerable. Not even when he was blind drunk. He was well-known for getting into nasty fights and winding up in lock-up, barely remembering anything from the fight the night before. Other than the fact that he’d won. Strange thing? Word on the street said that was all true. Anderson won all the fights he got into. At least that’s what Gavin heard. And his people were never wrong.

So yeah, Hank was a low-key tough guy. Usually Gavin knew just what to do with tough guys: Beat the crap out of them, then become the new tough guy on the block. 

But right now…well. Rules or whatever. And like, Hank had actually kind of helped him back there, so—

“Listen, asshole!” Gavin took a few steps closer to Hank. He waited for Hank to turn around and face him, but the guy never did. Didn’t even flinch. Just kept one hand on his dick and one hand braced against the wall. Like he’d known Gavin was going to follow him.

Bullshit. “I don’t need you to defend me, okay? So you can just…mind your own damn business!” 

Anderson took a deep breath. Shook his cock in a cursory way, zipped up. “Wasn’t trying to defend you. Just said what I felt.” By the sink, Hank finally caught Gavin’s gaze in the mirror. “That alright with you, Reed?” 

His eyes cut through Gavin. Piercing and sarcastic. Like Gavin hardly even mattered…like he wasn’t worth the time—

Another shiver ran down Gavin’s spine. This one was different from the last one. This one went straight to Gavin’s cock. His knees. His lips. Places in his body that knew exactly what to do with a look like that. Places that lit up like a fucking Christmas tree just because—

Ah. Right. 

Pressing his thighs together, shifting to the side to kind of….shield himself from Hank’s view, Gavin tried to focus on nothing but his anger. “I-I don’t give a shit what you think, you…! ….fucking…!” 

Only no insult worked in that moment. Gavin had plenty of insults for Anderson, (drunk, fat fuck, lazy prick, _failure, fucking failure_ ), but none of them sounded right. They were all way too unfair. Too harsh. 

They weren’t what Gavin wanted to call Hank in that moment. 

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Hank washed his hands and dried them on his pants. He turned around, ready to leave. “Sure. Whatever you say. It’s over now, anyway. It’s done. We’re good. You’re welcome.”

Gavin turned beet red. His voice reached new heights. “I-I-I’m not th-thanking you, you—!” 

“Yeah, yeah I know. God forbid you ever thank a guy, Reed.” Hank sighed and walked straight towards him. 

Fuck. He _towered_ over Gavin. He was so much bigger. Not just taller, but…his whole body. His frame. His shoulders, his arms, his hands, his legs. His face. His lips, barely visible underneath that scraggly gray beard. 

Gavin knew exactly how that beard would feel against his face. Scratching his chest, the insides of his thighs. Oh, _fuck_ , he had a thing for guys with beards…he knew he did…

Hank walked closer still. They were barely an inch apart now. 

Gavin was shaking like a leaf. He honestly thought Hank was about to kiss him. And…the truth? Every single fucking nerve-ending and molecule in his body wanted Hank to do it. _Fucking do it, goddamn you!_

He wanted Hank to kiss him. Hard. He wanted Hank to pick him up and push him against the wall, with enough force that Gavin hit his head and felt dizzy afterwards. He wanted Hank to press his meaty thigh between Gavin’s legs. Not caring what he crushed or what felt good. He wanted him to just completely wreck Gavin’s mouth—tongue him, bite him, leave him breathless. Press his hand into Gavin’s throat. Full of threats and promises. Overpower him. Then force Gavin to cum whether he wanted to or not. Make him cum so hard just from his fucking leg pressed against Gavin’s rock hard dick—

Then smile at him. All teeth and maybe that gravelly voice…

_“You’re welcome.”_

Lips trembling, mind completely gone, Gavin almost moaned when Hank blew an angry breath into his face. “You going to get out of my way?” he barked. 

Reality crashed around Gavin. Cruel and metallic. He realized he’d just gone over the deep end in some kind of fantasy—and Hank was nowhere near that level. 

He just wanted to leave the bathroom.

Wordlessly, Gavin stepped aside. Hank stormed out. Not a second glance in Gavin’s direction. 

But…

Gavin grabbed him by the shoulder, yanking him backwards a little. There was no real plan involved, he just…really wanted to put his hands on Hank. To see his smug ass ( _strong_ ) face one more time. 

“I’m…I’m gonna text Tina later to make sure she’s okay. So…you better not try anything, hear me?” 

Anderson looked at him. Not insulted. Just kind of bored. “Seriously.” 

Gavin narrowed his eyes and got in Hank’s face. Maybe if he went there Hank would kiss him back—no, no that made no sense. But the man’s warm breath still felt good on his skin. “Yeah. Fucking seriously.” 

“Fine. You do what you need to.” Hank forcibly shrugged Gavin off of him. Not enough to knock him over, but enough to rattle him a little. 

Just that….just with that small bit of strength he could…

“Have a good one, Reed.” Hank threw that last jab over his shoulder as he walked away. A few moments later he was in a cab with Tina, driving fast and far away from Grey Dog. From Gavin.

Turning on his heels, Gavin walked right back into the bathroom. He climbed into a stall and locked it soundly behind him. 

Fuck. Shit. 

_Fucking_ shit. 

Gavin tried to catch his breath. Huffing and puffing like he’d just run a marathon. He didn’t want to look down at himself—didn’t even need to, really—but he did anyway. Knowing what he would find. 

Yeah. He was pitching a tent the size of Michigan. 

Embarrassed, even though he was alone, Gavin covered his hard on with one hand. How. How in the hell—goddamn it, how!—had he gotten like this because of Hank Fucking Anderson? Of all people! If it had to be someone at work, why did it have to be that guy? The drunk? The least motivated of them all, the guy who’d made it to lieutenant but still had to work cases because he’d been on probation so many times? _That_ guy?

Oh god, Anderson was exactly Gavin’s type. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Was it because he’d always seen Hank as _that_ guy and never as the guy he was tonight? A guy who didn’t care what people thought, who looked out for people just because he wanted to…a guy who was so, so much stronger than Gavin. Bigger and stronger and older…

“Fuck you…” Gavin grumbled, unbuckling his belt and shoving his hand down his pants. He couldn’t stop himself at this point. He was either going to get off or spend the rest of his life in this stall because that hard on wasn’t going anywhere. 

Well. It’d been a long time since he’d jerked off in a public bathroom. 

But. It had also been a long time since he’d had been so immediately attracted to someone. That look—the fucking _look_ —Hank had given him was instant fap material. Not even the most experienced leather daddies he’d met in the seediest bars in town could do that to Gavin with just a look…

What _was_ Hank? Did he have some kind of professional experience Gavin didn’t know about? Was he secretly like the world’s best dom or something?

Shit, Gavin hoped so. 

He almost came the second he passed his hand over his cockhead. That’s how damn close he was. Straining with effort, Gavin managed to wrap a fist around himself and get a few strokes in. He wanted to go slow—this felt fucking amazing, imagining Hank telling him to kneel on the bathroom floor, putting his mouth around whatever Anderson had been hiding in his pants all these years—but he couldn’t. His own dry hand felt way too good….already way too much stimulation for his poor, agonized cock—

“Nnh, fuck me, please…for God’s sake—!”

When he came, Gavin bit down on the fleshy part of his hand. Hard enough that the mark would stay for a while, maybe even a day. The pain helped him get off, but he also needed to keep quiet. The inhuman noise that escaped him kind of scared him actually. Even with his hand in his mouth, Gavin’s voice echoed around the bathroom. Loud and desperate. 

He sounded exactly like what he was. A slutty little bitch who needed his…

“…daddy, fuck, oh, daddy please…” Gavin stroked himself through it, talking nonsense against his hand. Images flashed behind his eyelids as he came down from his peak. Images that would probably keep him horny for days. 

As it was, he could barely stay standing up. His legs had pins and needles from the force of that orgasm. Like his muscles had been asleep for a long time and now they were finally getting a good stretch.

In a way that was true. 

Once he was finally done cumming, Gavin braced himself for the next part. The shittiest part. The part that always hurt the most whenever he masturbated by himself. 

You’re alone.

…This was the lonely part. When he realized he was actually alone in a fucking men’s bathroom in some dumb, shitty bar downtown. There was no daddy coming to hold him, not tonight and not anytime in the near future. He didn’t have a daddy. Daddies didn’t want him because he was a piece of shit and why would they ever waste their time—

He clenched his body against a wave of brutal pain, sadness, regret, anger, fear, frustration, _sadness…_

You’re alone. And you’ll always be alone. 

…He just needed to ride it out. That’s it. Ride it, Gavin— He gripped the walls of the bathroom stall. Hanging on for dear life. Trying not to scream. Normally he took care of this at home yelling into a pillow. But he didn’t have anything like that here so he just needed to swallow it. 

Ow. Fucking…that hurt like a bitch. 

But he did it. He did it. He made it through. The other side of that shit storm was numbness. Sweet, uncomplicated numbness. Finally. 

That numbness was worth everything.

Sweaty, still panting, pants hanging around his hips, Gavin ran a hand through his hair. He flushed the toilet and fixed his clothes. Made sure there were no cum stains anywhere. Walked out, adjusting for a weird limp he’d just acquired, and splashed some water on his face. 

He looked normal in the mirror. His eyes were a little red from fighting back all the screaming. But that would fade pretty quick. If anyone asked about the bite mark on his hand he’d tell them he ran into a dog or something. (Not remotely believable.) Okay, he’d just tell them to mind their own fucking business. 

Of course, when he got back to the table he realized that Ben and Chris had already left. Chris had only left enough money to cover one of Gavin’s drinks. Naturally. That bastard. Those stupid pricks. (Although he had been in the bathroom a while.) 

Gavin debated sitting down at the bar and ordering one more drink. One for the road. In the end, he decided against it. He was numb enough for now. 

He didn’t even need to wonder if he should try his luck at the club. He’d already gotten off once tonight. Plus, let’s face it, he was definitely in for some more solo rounds at home. If they were anything like what he’d done in the bathroom…Gavin would be good. 

For tonight, anyway. Just for tonight. 

And tomorrow…well, tomorrow he’d have to see Anderson at work. No way around it. 

That tremor inside of him? Gavin wasn’t sure if it was unbearable excitement ormortal dread. Hank might actually kill him if he gave him a look like that again…

Either way. Gavin would just have to ride that out too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Gavin. You hot mess creature *pats* 
> 
> Hope you like it so far!


	2. Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin knows he can only hold out for so long. No surprise there. He knows himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, other people are into this rarepair!! That makes me so happy ^___^ 
> 
> Check out the tags on this one, y'all. Tags are made for this kind of stuff, I think.

That night was one of the worst Gavin could remember having in a very long time. He jerked off a bunch more times when he got home, which meant that he needed to ride out low-key breakdowns for most of the night. Each one was worst than the last.

He just…wasn’t a guy who could masturbate continuously without caring. It made him feel weird, getting off again and again on his own hand. The other hand buried in his hair or buried in his ass. Pulling, scratching, tugging, pressing. Everything. Everything, but just not enough.

It made him feel like scum. Cumming so many times thinking about some loser asshole he worked with. Hank probably hadn’t thought about Gavin more than once since he left the bar, and here Gavin was building up all these scenarios in his head.

Gavin all tied up, Hank stepping on his back from behind. Grinding his face into the ground…

Hank pile driving into him, pressing his head against the mattress so hard that Gavin could barely breathe. God, Gavin wished he knew what Hank was working with. Why hadn’t he tried to look when they were alone in the bathroom together…?

Gavin on his knees underneath Hank’s desk at the station. Getting Hank off in front of everyone. Hidden, but maybe people knew he was there and just didn’t want to get involved. They knew that Gavin was Hank’s bitch. For Hank’s own personal use. No one else’s. 

“Mmm, I’m your bitch…” Gavin moaned as he bit his pillow hard and came again for the thousandth time. 

He wanted Hank to own him. Gavin hadn’t been owned in a very, very long time. Almost two years. Yeah, he’d fucked, but being _owned—_ being the property of a dom who could handle him—was completely different. Being owned was the best (and of course, the worst). Going to the same guy again and again for the same treatment, being told exactly what to do every time. A little more intense each time. Sometimes told what to wear. What to eat. Sometimes not allowed to talk at all for whole hours, not allowed to come for days. Being left along—turned on and desperate—but always returned to. _So_ good. It was like having a safety net. Someone who knew what Gavin needed and made it their business to look out for him…it was almost like having a real daddy. Or at least…Gavin thought so. (He wouldn’t actually know, but his imagination was usually pretty spot on.) 

Yeah right. As if Hank would ever do that for you.

The guy hates you. 

You’re an asshole to him every single day at work. 

Even if he’s into kink, he wouldn’t be into you. You’re a piece of shit. 

You’re pathetic. 

_Pathetic. Whiny. Needy little…_

Eventually it got too real riding out those post-orgasm freak-outs. Gavin changed his pillowcase—not trying to look at all the spit, bite marks, and tears—and told himself to stop. 

Wasn’t worth it. 

No matter how good those orgasms felt, no matter how hard he got off, the gut-wrenching loneliness and…other stuff ( _fearpainsad_ ) was too much. He wasn’t even numb anymore by the morning. Nope. When morning came he was actually wrecked. Tired and twitchy. Black bags under his eyes, pale skin, and feet that wouldn’t stop tapping. 

Those moves Hank put on him the night before—and they weren’t even really moves, they were just words and looks, not even intentional flirting, just….Hank being himself (fuck why was that even hotter)—were like crumbs. Tiny scraps of food and Gavin was fucking starving. He’d been starving for proper treatment for a while and now his hunger was starting to eat him up from the inside out. He didn’t want to eat real food. He didn’t want to drink. He just wanted to get fucked. 

How could he make it happen.

(You can’t. You won’t. You’re just a filthy perv who jerks off thinking about some poor loser—)

All his fears, the worst parts of him, were louder now. Made sense. He’d opened the door for them by masturbating so much. Those voices in his head that told him he sucked. The voices that finally quieted down when someone else said the same thing, the same tired ass rhetoric (he was shit, he sucked, blah blah blah, yeah what else was new?). They really knew how to kick a guy when he was down. 

…Whatever.

Gavin didn’t have to give in to his own bullshit. All that baggage. He’d been dealing with these carry-ons for years. Nothing special about them. Wouldn’t effect his job, wouldn’t effect the way he acted in front of other people. Wouldn’t change a damn thing. 

And now Gavin had to work twice as hard at being tough, since there was a chance people knew about his kinks.

Fucking Collins. 

Gavin dragged himself into work. Same time as every day, bright and early. He would never give the bosses any excuse to write him up—for all his swagger, Gavin was actually 100% by the book. He wasn’t looking for any chances to wind up back where he started, at the very bottom of the world. 

Fortunately, being an asshole wasn’t a disciplinary offense. Especially when it came to the androids who worked at the department. The PC200s and the PM700s. Fucking losers. 

As soon as he walked in that day, Gavin came up behind one of the PC200s and shoved it as hard as he could. 

“Whoa, watch where you’re going!” Gavin shouted as the lump of plastic fell flat on its face. 

The thing landed with a hell of a thud. Uniform hat tumbling across the floor. Its LED spun yellow as it looked back up at Gavin, bracing for another blow. Curling into itself on instinct. These machines could learn, after all. It’d already learned that Gavin was pretty likely to hit it again. 

Good. Fucking coward.

It was almost sad. These androids were designed to be nothing but punching bags. If that wasn’t some kind of Freudian shit, Gavin didn’t know what was. But, it didn’t matter. He needed a punching bag right now. He’d spent his night screaming futilely against the ball of self-hatred and rejection in his chest. 

The whole station was looking at them. Gavin held onto his shoulder, pretending to be hurt. He stared right back at everyone else and shrugged. “What, this thing was standing right in my way! Blocking everybody. Maybe it got stuck in standby or some shit…probably broken…” 

Still yellow, the PC200 slowly started to uncoil. Getting into position to stand back up. Just as it cautiously rose to its knees, Gavin kicked its side. Hard enough to send it tumbling back to the floor. 

A few people laughed. The ones that hated androids the most, the usual crew. Gavin made eye contact with them and nodded in shared enjoyment (entirely forced, hopefully not noticeably so). He stomped triumphantly over to his desk and turned on his monitor. Ready to get started.

There. Now no one would fuck with Gavin for the rest of the day. Sure, some people were shaking their heads in disapproval. One of the part-timers even helped the PC200 stand up, shooting Gavin a look of extreme irritation. Fine with Gavin. Let them all think whatever they wanted. At least they knew not to say any shit to his face.

They wouldn’t dare. Because they were all fucking afraid of him. 

Good. 

Finally letting out a breath—quiet enough that no one would hear—Gavin relaxed in his chair. Just a tiny bit. He still needed to keep his guard up. There’d probably be whispers around him for a few days, no keeping those at bay. But he could deal with whispers. All he had to do was listen for them and then confront them head on. With a look or some vague threat. It’d work. At least for now. 

Anything else waiting for him down the line? Who could say. Ben was already out working a case; Gavin hadn’t seen him. The guy mostly kept to himself anyway. Chris was trying to catch Gavin’s eye but Gavin wasn’t biting. He really had nothing to say to that asshole. Eventually Chris got the hint and went back to work. They’d be alright with each other soon. No way around that. They worked together. But, Gavin would never ever forget the way Chris laughed at him. He didn’t just forgive that kind of shit. Chris couldn’t be trusted. 

As for Tina? She was hanging around the break room. Looking like she’d gotten hit with the hangover of the decade. There was a styrofoam cup of black coffee in front of her, but she wasn’t even drinking it. She looked too sick for that. With two fingers on her temples, she downed some more Tylenol and closed her eyes. Poor loser. Her tolerance had gone way down since she’d gotten married. Gavin might buy her some coconut water at lunchtime, throw it her way. Tina appreciated shit like that. She’d probably forget all about what she’d heard the night before if she thought Gavin was an okay guy. 

(You’re a liar and a—) 

Gavin went over every minute detail of his cases before he looked in the direction of Hank’s desk. His heart was racing. Foot bouncing away. He was chewing on his bottom lip, too. A shitty habit he’d thought he already kicked. 

Hank wouldn’t be looking at him. That’s for damn sure. He’d be eating something, a fifteen-year-old’s version of breakfast (a donut or cold pizza or some shit). Or he’d be painstakingly trying to fill out paperwork, his weakest point as a detective by far. Or maybe he’d even be asleep at his desk as Gavin had seen him doing more than once. Guy was brazen when it came to not caring. He fucking flaunted it. 

Still, in a way, Gavin hoped Hank had seen the stunt he pulled with the PC200. Not that Hank would have cared one way or the other. He hated androids, that’s for sure (everyone knew the story). But he also hated grandstanding. Known fact. So, Hank probably would have just shaken his head and gotten back to work. 

Even so. Gavin wanted Hank to see that he was normal. That he wasn’t at all rattled by what had happened last night. That he was perfectly fine, back to his usual self—

—that wasn’t at all what he wanted, really. He wanted Hank to give him a look and then pull him into his car. Fuck yes, that shitty car Gavin hated more than anything. He wanted Hank to push the seat back and let Gavin ride him in driver’s seat. He’d fuck himself on Hank like a goddamn pro—he’d give Hank the ride of his life if only Hank would let him….!

Yeah. No. He was not at all back to normal.

…He just couldn’t let anyone else know that. Especially not Hank. Nothing good ever came from going in too hot, too desperate. He needed to play it cool for now. Hank would definitely think Gavin was a sick, hopeless pervert if he knew. 

(Because you are—)

It took Gavin about thirty minutes to find the balls to look over at Hank’s desk. Thirty whole minutes. That’s how goddamn shook he was. 

And of course, Hank wasn’t even in yet. It was only 9:00. 

Of fucking course.

__________________________________________________

By the time he finally saw Hank, Gavin was almost too pissed to even care. 

Almost.

Hank strolled in around 11:00 (still early, by his standards) while Gavin was out for a cigarette. Already his fourth of the day. He spotted Hank ambling up to the station with his usual slouch. Like a man on death row. Counting the days. 

So fucking sad. 

It riled Gavin up immediately. How could Hank get away with being so sad all the damn time?! It was selfish, that’s what it was! Yeah, sure. His kid died a few years ago. So what! Life was a bitch then you died, didn’t everyone know that? Hank wasn’t fucking special just because life had decided to chew him up and spit him out. Get the hell over it already! 

“Asshole…” Gavin said under his breath as Hank came closer. He smoked his cigarette with a sufficient amount of edge, trying not to look at the man. 

Hank smelled like booze, naturally. Gavin could smell it on him several feet away. He’d probably chased whatever crap food he’d eaten with some Dewars, if he’d even eaten at all. (Gavin could almost give himself credit for that detective work, if it wasn’t so obvious anyone on the street could figure it out.)

The shitty part? Hank didn’t so much as glance at Gavin. Not even when they were close enough to touch shoulders. He just…kept walking. 

Gavin’s left eye started twitching. How…could he just…? It was like the worst kind of denial play Gavin ever had. Here he was, spending 90% of the previous night jacking off to thoughts of this guy, and Hank couldn’t even acknowledge his existence? He fucking saw him standing there! He was just ignoring him! 

That…bastard. 

“Fucking prick,” Gavin muttered. Loud enough for Hank to hear. 

He wanted to punch him square in the face for messing him up so bad. He wanted to grab his beard and _tug…_ he wanted to pull their faces together and taste the scotch on Hank’s breath for himself. 

He wanted…

Gavin hated being ignored. Not even during a sex scene. No, he was a needy little bitch and he liked getting tons of attention. Even if he was being bad and needed to be punished…which was all the time…

He glared at Hank’s back, blowing smoke at him intentionally. Hoping the bastard was asthmatic or something. 

Hank put his hand on the door, ready to go in without comment. But at the last second he sighed, turning around.

“Something to say, Reed?” 

There. That face. Bored, borderline anger. Radiating indifference and vague sadness. 

His face shot Gavin square in the chest. That was the look—it was the same face he’d shown him last night. The look of a man who saw right through a guy like Gavin. A whiny punk. Hank could call Gavin out on his bullshit. He wasn’t scared of him like those other idiots….he could own him.

Fuck. _Fuck_ fuck fuck—

Gavin’s hands shook as he tried to keep hold of his cigarette. He wanted to grab the lapels of Hank’s jacket and _beg_ —slump down to his knees, cling to him—

_Please oh please, please! Please I’ll do anything…! Whatever you want, just please…_

He wasn’t saying anything. He couldn’t. The second he opened his mouth, the only thing that would come out would be some kind of high-pitched plea. 

But that also meant he was just standing there like a weirdo. 

Hank narrowed his eyes. Staring at him hard. Gavin shivered and wondered if Hank could see the boner growing in his pants. He was getting there fast. Unbelievably fast, like last time. It felt like he was being stripped. Rough and quick, like someone was ripping off his clothes. Exposing him. Those eyes could see to the heart of Gavin and it didn’t even matter that he was fully dressed. He couldn’t hide—

But Hank just turned away with a shake of his head. “Guess not,” he said, answering his own question. He walked inside and left Gavin out in the cold. 

Shit. 

Gavin thumped his head against the brick wall of the station. Had Hank seen him getting turned on? Did he suspect? Did he _know_? Say what you want about Anderson, the guy was a great fucking detective. He must have some idea what was going on, right? 

What did that mean? Did Gavin even want him to know? Did he really think this was going to go anywhere at all or was it just some fucked up thing Gavin had created entirely in his head? 

Did he want it to be real?

Real would be messy. They _worked_ together. They knew way too much about each other for it to be anything like a casual club hook-up. They could destroy each other if it went bad. Hank might even decided right now that he was over it, report Gavin to the captain for inappropriate conduct, and then Gavin would be transferred with a warning. The huge chub in his jeans wasn’t going to help his case if he got caught up in that. 

But…

Real would also be _real_. Hank putting his hands on him. Using his strength. Doing what he liked. Feeding the thing that Gavin just couldn’t handle on his own. Showing him the kind of care he’d been craving his entire fucking life, never satisfying. Always wanting more and more…

Was Hank even into kink?

…In his core, Gavin knew it didn’t matter. Maybe Hank was a kinkster, maybe he wasn’t. Either way worked. Gavin would accept a vanilla fuck from Hank at this point. _Gladly_. Seriously grateful. Tongue out, stupid smile on his face kind of grateful. 

_Anything_.

He was losing control of that part of him. The part that drove him to go to crazy, unsafe lengths to get off the way he liked. Truthfully, he never really had great control over it. But Hank…everything about him…stirred up that part of him to no end. Like kicking a hornet’s nest. And Gavin couldn’t just stand there getting stung by his own desperation…

Could he?

______________________________________________

It was days before Gavin got any closer to making a decision. Several long, excruciating days. Over a week. Sleepless nights. Twitchy days on the job. Refusing to masturbate because that would only make it worse. But needing to be touched so, so badly….

Gavin knew he’d have to get off sooner or later. It was only a matter of time before he lost complete control of himself and subbed out for the first person making an offer.

Once, he tried to drop the whole Hank thing and get his rocks off at the club. Go back to normal, the scene where he could be comfortable. At least there he could keep a relatively safe distance from work and still maintain some level of sanity. 

But the club had changed. Even in the few months since he’d been gone. It was now almost entirely androids. The guys that used to dom Gavin were nowhere to be found—apparently they’d lost their jobs to the plastic wave same as the rest of the working public. The other subs he knew were totally in love with their android masters…they didn’t even flinch when Gavin told them they were all fucked in the head.

“Whatever, man,” one of his acquaintances, a guy he knew only as Kitty (they all went by aliases here), said. Indifferent. “You should just go get a Traci and work your shit out.”

Maybe he should. Maybe that was the safest way, maybe that made the most sense. If the rest of the world was doing it, then why couldn’t Gavin just give in and let those dull-eyed robots fuck him—

“Yeah, not a chance,” he spat back. Disgusted by the sight of the collar on Kitty’s neck. This guy’d let some soulless computer collar him…how could he want to be owned by something that didn’t _feel_? 

He stormed out of the club in a haze of panic and anger. What was wrong with all of them?! Didn’t they see that those androids couldn’t care less about them? They were just programmed to say some shit somebody found online that sounded kinky…they weren’t doing any of it because they wanted to. They were fake. The worst kind of fake—if they had a choice, they’d be out. If any of those androids turned deviant….who the hell knew what they would do.

Gavin couldn’t handle shit like that. Unknowns. You never really knew a person, and androids were a hundred times worse. You could never predict what they’d really be like once their feelings kicked in. 

It freaked him the fuck out.

So the club was no longer an option. Gavin wasn’t sure he ever wanted to go back, especially not now that he’d discovered exactly the kind of man who could give it to him just right. `

That was the shittiest part. When it came to fantasizing, which Gavin spent a reasonable amount of time on (had to, especially now that he wasn’t masturbating), the only guy in his head was Hank.

Hank bending him in half in the alleyway behind Jimmy’s Bar, one of his well-known hangouts. Holding him by the back of the neck. Telling him not to move, not to make a sound…and Gavin obeying. He _loved_ following directions during a scene.

…

….Gavin being good for Hank. Doing whatever he asked. Being his—

He couldn’t even think too hard about that last one. That one actually hurt. For…reasons. Lots of reasons. And, yeah whatever.

Anyway, he was basically screwed. No doubt about that. Because he couldn’t get over the idea of Hank and…he had no clue how to make a move on him.

This was unchartered territory for Gavin. His whole life, he’d met almost all of his sexual partners under the pretense of sex. Whether it was at a club or on an app, the men in Gavin’s life met him because they already wanted to fuck him. That part was out of the way. As soon as they saw each other, they could get right down to it. Gavin liked that. No preamble, no anxiety. Just the scene. He’d never even thought about a different kind of situation—one where sex wasn’t already a part of the deal. Where Gavin had to make the first move and figure out what kind of offer to make. 

Where Gavin could be turned down. Not soft rejection, being ignored and shit like that, no. Actual, hardcore rejection. A ‘hell no’ or even an ‘eh, no thanks.’ Either way, Gavin would be crushed. Maybe beyond a point of recovery. It would hurt him ( _every part of him_ ) so bad to get rejected that Gavin honestly didn’t know if he could take it. He’d never had to before and he didn’t know how to start. 

‘Nah, I’m good.’

‘You shitting me?’

‘What, seriously? No way.’ 

Gavin ran through a million different ways Hank might reject him. Each one more painful than the next. Each one would prove what he already knew—what he’d known since the day he was born, and what had been proven time and time again: He was worthless. 

Fuck. 

Seriously, fuck this shit.

Yeah he wished he could be casual about it. Just go up to Hank and be like, ‘Hey I’m into you. So, wanna do me?’ Or even more casual. Send him a text. ‘U down?’ with his address attached. No words, no personal exchange. Hank would know immediately what was on the table here. 

(And, realistically speaking, as far as Gain was concerned, _everything_ was on the table. Whatever Hank wanted. No limits.)

But even then, there was still the possibility of being turned down. What if Hank just didn’t show up? What if he looked at Gavin weirdly for the rest of their lives because he _knew…_ he was under no obligation to play fair. No reason to respect Gavin’s interest. He could make Gavin the laughing stock of the whole department if he wanted to—ruin his life. All over one genuine, misguided offer.

Why.

Why couldn’t it be easy.

Because of course it couldn’t. Nothing was ever easy and Gavin had basically set himself up for this one. He was too thirsty, too hard up for it. That was always his problem; he was too much of a slut. 

You’re a worthless slut and you know it.

Yeah, of course he knew it. In some ways, that was the only good thing about him. He could work with what he had. 

In the end, Gavin knew what he needed to do. It would be weird—kind of maybe illegal? Definitely a fire-able offense. If he was caught or if Hank reported him, that was it. He’d have to turn in his badge and his gun, go back to square one. He could lose everything just like that.

But…he really didn’t have a lot of choices. The only other thing he could do was try and wait this out. And that definitely wasn’t going to work. He’d either go insane from being touch starved, or he’d masturbate so much he lost his damn mind. Besides, Gavin wasn’t the sit around and wait type of guy. When he had a problem, he threw himself at it head on. 

He needed Hank to understand what Gavin wanted. He needed to put himself out there.

He just…couldn’t do it with words.

_______________________________________________

Gavin had been up all night sipping vodka and smoking cigarettes. He’d gone through almost two packs. He knew he needed to just get on with it already. Today had to be the day. If he didn’t pull it off today then he was never going to do it. 

Besides, Hank had just come back from a crime scene with tons of evidence. That was the fucking perfect excuse. 

Wouldn’t get any easier. 

Gavin sat at his desk, both feet bouncing, trying not to rip his damn lip to shreds. Keeping one eye on Hank. Waiting for it. Of course the guy took fucking forever to get two sheets of paperwork done. He’d had to restart the form twice because he kept fucking it up. And then he took like three music breaks where he just sat with his headphones on before finally finishing.

Lazy motherfucker.

Why did Gavin have to be so into this guy.

At last, Hank scooped all the evidence bags he had on his desk into his arms. He lumbered to his feet and made his way down to the archive room to register it all.

_Now or never._

Gavin waited a full minute before following him. He quickly bagged something random—his own empty pack of cigarettes, actually—just to have an excuse to go down there if anyone stopped him. 

This was by far the most pathetic thing he’d done in his life. At least as far as work was concerned. 

Even so, here he was. Typing his password into the system—leaving traces of himself everywhere, evidence that he was about to do this—walking in full view of the camera. His hands were cold and clammy and he felt weak in the knees. Blinking hard to fight the twitching in his eyes. 

At least part of that was because of excitement. 

He and Hank were finally alone—

Hank looked up in surprise when he saw Gavin walk into the Archive Room. Then he saw the evidence bag in his hand and shrugged his shoulders, kind of grunting at him in acknowledgment. He went back to sorting evidence. Hank was surprisingly meticulous about it, making sure everything wound up under the correct file name. Maybe it was part of his process or something. Keeping tidy materials. 

Gavin walked wordlessly to the back of the room. There was one spot around here where the cameras didn’t reach. Gavin knew it because he’d spent part of his time as a rookie working security detail. He’d learned the exact reach of the cameras and he always thought it was kind of fishy to have a place in the evidence room where no one could be seen. So he’d watched that spot like a hawk, keeping an eye out for dirty cops. Gavin _hated_ dirty cops. Lowest scum on the planet. 

Now though, it was coming in handy. For his own sick reasons.

( _You’re_ the lowest of the low, you whore—)

Gavin stood in the camera’s blindspot for several seconds. He stuffed his fake evidence into a random spot and clung to the shelf. Trying to get his breathing in order. It was like he could feel the space between him and Hank. Like he always could these days. He’d give _anything_ to feel Hank’s eyes on him again. To know what his body felt like—he was past the point of fantasy. 

He needed the real thing.

“Hey, Anderson.” His voice was rougher than he planned. “Can you come take a look at this for a second?” 

Immediately, he heard Hank shuffling over. Stand up guy that he was. Always trying to look out for the other detectives. “Hmm? What do you have over there, Reed? Something all the way in the back?” 

“Yeah it’s just right over here…”

He purposefully trailed off, letting Hank close the distance between them. When Hank was within range, Gavin took his shot. It might be the last thing he ever did—there was no guarantee Hank wouldn’t actually kill him for this. Slug him to death or maybe put a bullet right between his eyes. Gavin had no idea if Hank was that kind of man or not.

But if he was going to die, then Gavin might as well enjoy himself first. 

Before Hank could get a word in, Gavin grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him up against the shelf. Hank reacted with an audible grunt; a surprised, manly kind of sound that set Gavin on fire. It went straight between his legs. Shattering his brain. 

He pressed his mouth against Hank’s lips. Hot and heavy. Slotting their legs together, showing Hank exactly how hard he already was. How hard he’d been all damn day while he was thinking about this, maybe even longer. He shoved his dick against Hank’s thigh and _begged_.

He begged the only way he could. With his body. With his mouth. Hungrily devouring Hank’s lips—he tasted like salt and ketchup, had he eaten fries for lunch? Scratching his own face against that beard he’d imagined so many times. It burned _so good_. Maybe he’d even had a mark after this. Perfect.

…Hank wasn’t fighting him. At first he just let it happen. Maybe it was shock. Because he wasn’t reciprocating either. His hands hovered uselessly in midair. He didn’t return the kiss. Instead, he was just letting Gavin have his way.

His cock—which Gavin could feel against his leg (and oh _fuck_ it felt like a thick one, a nice beer can sized thing he could really get into)—was still soft. 

That…wasn’t hot. 

Panic rose in Gavin’s throat and he doubled down on his kissing technique. Trying to shove his tongue all the way inside Hank’s mouth, wanting to taste him as far back as his throat—that fucking throat that could do all kinds of things to Gavin whenever Hank spoke—

That was the final straw. Hank grumbled and pushed his face away. Shoving Gavin in the chest to create some distance between them.

“Whoa, okay…hang on…” There was a deep frown on his face. Hank was shaking the hair out of his eyes as he tried to regain his bearings. 

But Gavin couldn’t wait for that. The inside of Hank’s mouth was warm. His body was big and squishy…Gavin wanted to climb him like a fucking tree. He pushed Hank’s uncertain hands out of the way and forced him into another kiss. 

This one was much less natural. Hank refused to open his mouth, and he twisted out of the way before their lips met. So Gavin ended up kissing his chin. Which was still sexy as hell.

“Easy, just—” 

Gavin couldn’t take it easy. Not after days of wanting this so much he could barely breathe. He buried his fingers into Hank’s jacket with a vise-like grip. He’d never let go. Not until brass came and dragged him away.

But Hank needed space. He grabbed Gavin by the back of the neck, yanking him backwards. 

Gavin immediately went still. That meaty hand on his neck—goddamn it, yes. He moaned out loud and let himself go slack.

Now he was at Hank’s mercy.

Just where he wanted to be. He looked up at the grizzly older man through his eyelashes. Giving him the most obedient look he knew how to give.

_I’m yours._

“Calm down, kid, Jesus…” Hank huffed, his breath coming back slowly. _But._ Gavin could see the way Hank was looking at him. His eyes were wider than usual and his nose was dusted red.

That wasn’t disgust and it wasn’t rejection. It was a small, very very tiny, bit of interest.

Gavin would take it. He rested his hands on Hank’s shoulders and decided to slow things down. Maybe Hank was one of those guys who needed a little bit of coaxing to get hard. Some foreplay. Gavin could manage that. No problem. 

Smiling, he trailed his hand up Hank’s neck. Looking for more reactions. Little tells about where Hank liked to be touched. Wherever they were, Gavin would find them…

Hank snatched Gavin’s hand away, blinking in irritation. But he didn’t let go. He just kind of held it in the space between them. Rubbing his thumb against Gavin’s fingers. 

Want flared inside of Gavin. _That_. Hunger so intense it made his throat catch and his stomach hurt. Gavin saw that affectionate little move and now he was so turned on he literally couldn’t see straight. Everything was too loud and too quiet at the same time. Blurry, indistinct. He _needed_ that touch…

Ecstatic, he whined in a thin voice.

“So…” Hank said, putting all the pieces together. “This is what’s been up with you lately? Why you’ve been in an especially bad mood, giving me looks and shit like that…?”

Gavin licked his lips and nodded. He could still taste Hank on him. 

“Shit.” Hank’s eyebrows bounced. Then a small smile pulled at one side of his face. “I kind of thought you were tweaking on something, to be honest.” 

Gavin gripped Hank’s hand and squeezed. Smiling as well now. Okay, to be fair, Hank wasn’t that far off. It’s just, instead of drugs he was tweaking on this. Being with older guys twice his size. His version of ice. 

“You’re not, though, right?” Hank asked seriously. “You’re sober?”

Gavin brought Hank’s hand to his lips and kissed. He needed more contact. _More_ , please more. Hank was barely touching him! Gavin needed to be touched right now. If he didn’t, there was a good chance he’d start crying…and nobody wanted to see that.

“Yeah, I’m clean.” He took Hank’s forefinger into his mouth, lightly sucking. Trying to give Hank a preview of the kinds of things he could do to his cock. Swirling his tongue and bobbing his head.

Hank sucked in air through his teeth. That was a hell of a reaction! Gavin went for it, taking Hank’s finger to the back of his throat.

“God _damn_ it…” Hank whispered under his breath. “You sure? Because you’re really asking for it right now. You get that, right?” He loosened his grip on Gavin’s neck. 

Hell yes Gavin got that. He took that inch as a mile of leeway and shoved his face against Hank’s neck. Licking and sucking. Inhaling deeply—oh, this was Hank’s scent. Soap and worn clothes and stale booze. That smell must follow Hank everywhere, no matter how much he’d had to drink. And right now Gavin knew Hank was also sober. He could see it in his eyes. They were far too clear. 

He was everything Gavin wanted. Breathlessly panting a quiet “Yes,” Gavin curled up against Hank, hooking his leg around Hank’s ankle. Locking them in place. Unable to control himself—his cock was so hard it was throbbing—Gavin rubbed against Hank’s thigh. Yeah, fine, he was at an animal level right now but…he just needed…a little more…

His thoughts were all clouded. He knew this was reality only because Hank’s hands were colder than Gavin thought they’d be. His skin was more sallow and fleshy. Less tight. But that was even better—the real details ratcheted up the heat inside of him. 

This was Hank’s body. The man who’d made him like this. 

“H-Hank…” Gavin had to say it. He moaned it in his ear. It might have been the first time Gavin’d ever said the name out loud, he couldn’t remember. But it was delicious on lips. 

And with just that word, he sounded like the thirsty little slut he was.

He caught a shiver running down Hank’s shoulders. Did he like that? Was he getting hard…? Gavin hoped so. This would be way too sad otherwise. 

A sigh escaped Hank. “Alright, I hear you, kid.” He brought one hand up and traced the underside of Gavin’s chin. Forcing their eyes to meet. 

There was so _much_ in Hank’s eyes. Pain and honesty and lust and acceptance. So many things. Too many to process all at once. It was all Gavin could do to try and remember the sight while he…melted.

“Kiss me, _please._ ” Gavin held onto Hank for dear life. He stared at the older man’s lips, willing them to come closer.

They did. Hank kissed him. It was much gentler than anything Gavin had ever imagined. Hank’s lips were actually soft—you could tell the guy used lip balm or something—and he rocked them against Gavin’s. Forcing his head back, ever so slightly. 

Neck exposed, Gavin leaned away, asking Hank to kiss him there. Again, these were not things he could say out loud entirely. Just bits and pieces. The rest was just his body and the things it showed.

Hank obliged him though. He kissed Gavin’s neck. Right on his jugular, making Gavin thrash in his arms, then down to the hollow of his throat. Hank was actually an amazing fucking kisser and that wasn’t fair—it wasn’t fair that Hank could destroy him like this, with so little effort…!

“Bite me,” Gavin pleaded. 

He didn’t need to explain. Hank understood.

Right away, Hank sunk his teeth into the space just below Gavin’s adam’s apple. A bold move. A place where other people might see….but, Hank wasn’t biting him too hard. Just enough pressure to make Gavin feel it.

And it sent little needles of pleasure through every part of him. He wrapped his arms around Hank’s shoulders. Slumped over, hardly standing at all. 

“Harder…” 

This time, Hank moved to the side of his neck. He bit him again, harder. Gavin cried louder than he should—they were still in the Archive Room. Anyone could walk in on them, and they would if they heard shouting…

But Gavin was past the point of caring about that. His dick was caught between the two of them and it felt like heaven. Like white, unthinking pleasure. His boxers were already wet. Embarrassingly so. 

Unable to stop, Gavin pushed Hank’s hand into his hair. This he would have to show him. He squeezed Hank’s hand, imitating exactly what he wanted Hank to do to him.

Amazingly, the guy got it. Just like that. He grabbed a good handful of Gavin’s hair and _pulled—_

“Oh! Fuck—me—!” 

Gavin’s whole body shook. His eyes rolled back in his head. More sounds tumbled out of his mouth…his mouth just wouldn’t seem to close. Hank pulled his hair one more time—

That was all it took. Gavin came. Hard. Harder than he’d come in months, maybe even years. An orgasm that hit him so completely it felt like he was cumming in waves. Gushing. Soaking his pants through. Clinging to Hank as hard as he could. Unable to imagine a world where Hank let him go—

He couldn’t—he _couldn’t_ —this was—

“Alright, alright. Shit. I got you. I got you, okay?”

Hank was holding him. One hand in Gavin’s hair, the other around his waist. Keeping him upright. Waiting out the rest of Gavin’s surprise, extremely premature orgasm.

_Yes, hold me. Hold me, Daddy, please. Don’t let go…_

The words were seconds away from coming out of his mouth. They only got stuck because Gavin forgot to breathe. He was gasping for air, dizzy and kind of confused. If he’d been laying down, he might have passed out. As it was, it took all of Gavin’s energy not to crumble in Hank’s arms. 

Even though part of him actually wanted to. 

Seconds rolled into minutes as Gavin’s orgasm slowly faded. He became aware of small things first. The hands on his body. Big and strong. The wetness in his pants. The sound of something dripping onto the floor—was that him? Shit, it was. The drool on his chin, slipping down his neck…He’d made such a fucking mess of himself. 

By far the most humiliating climax of his life. Gavin squeezed his eyes closed, legitimately afraid to think about looking Hank in the eye. 

What, in the name of fuck, had he just proven? Nothing? Everything? What even…was that? Why had he come like he was high on something—when all Hank did was bite him and pull his hair? 

Maybe there was something really wrong with him…

A shaky breakdown edged around the periphery of everything. He was close to it. A rough crying and screaming fit. There was nothing okay about anything he’d just done and now he was wrecked in the middle of a work day—

“You okay? Still with me?” Hank gripped Gavin’s chin and righted his head. Never loosening his grip. He could basically move Gavin around like a rag doll if he wanted. 

But he didn’t. Hank kept him in place. Just holding him.

“I…” Gavin began. He opened his eyes, looking steadfastly at Hank’s chin. Nowhere else. 

What was there to say?

“Did you really just come, Reed?” Hank wiped some of the drool away from Gavin’s chin with his thumb. “From that?” 

Lacking any defense—even though several ran through his head (why did you bite me so hard? Why did you have to be the best kisser I’ve ever had? Why are you so fucking sexy without even trying? This is all your fault!)—Gavin nodded.

“Damn…” Hank took a deep breath. “That’s crazy, kid. You must have been dying for it.” 

That was the obvious truth. They could both see it. No need to confirm it.

“Bet you feel better now though, huh?” 

Gavin gasped and looked up. To his shock, he found Hank was smiling. Not a cocky smile. More teasing than smug. Part of him also just looked…relieved. Like he’d enjoyed Gavin’s orgasm on some level as well. 

Maybe he had. 

And he wasn’t letting Gavin go.

Like smoke in a stiff breeze, Gavin’s impending breakdown evaporated. He took a big breath and blinked a few times. He felt…okay, for about a second. That meant the worst was over. Thank god! Then, he felt better than okay. 

He felt _great_. He felt light, almost weightless. Happy. A goofy, euphoric kind of happiness that could mean only one thing. 

This is exactly what happened to him when he came at the hands of a good daddy. Gavin was falling headfirst into subspace. He couldn’t stop it. Hank’s hands on him. _Holding_ him _…_ accepting him. 

“Oh…” Gavin stood up straight. Regarding Hank as if seeing him for the first time.

Hank had a handsome smile. Why didn’t he smile more often?

He ran both hands down Hank’s chest. Stopping at the belt around Hank’s waist. His fingers played with the buckle, eager and excited. Especially since it was clear Hank had gotten hard somewhere in the middle of all that. Gavin could see the outline of his cock pressing against the inside of his pant leg…

Amazing. Gavin swallowed around a mouthful of spit. 

(Yeah, he was in it now. Full blown subspace. No denying it. This is just what his body did when a dom proved themselves to be trustworthy. A gut reaction. Find a hot daddy and sub out for him. That was Gavin’s nature.) 

“What about you, hmm?” Gavin’s voice was higher than usual. He kissed Hank’s cheek. Over and over again. Showering him with affection. “Want me to suck you off?” 

An honest offer. (But shit, Gavin was inching into littlespace…goddamn it, no, it was too early for that! Hank could take him there if he wanted, though. He really fucking could.)

Something rumbled inside Hank’s chest. Some kind of sound. 

Approval. Fuck yes, Hank was turned on.

“Ah yeah…” Gavin licked Hank’s earlobe. Trying his best to be a tease. “Want me to? Come on, I’ll make it _so_ good for you…” 

“Uh…listen…” Why did Hank seem unsure?

Ignoring all that, Gavin dropped straight to his knees. This is where he belonged. On his fucking knees in front of this man. It had taken him way too long to get here.

“Don’t worry,” Gavin assured him. Opening Hank’s pants with lightening speed. A practiced hand. “I’ll take care of you. Real good, okay? I promise.” His voice was soft and breathy. 

Gavin plunged his hand inside, fishing around for Hank’s cock. He found it. Oh god, it was feverishly hot. Fat, but not so long. The perfect size. It was probably hard for most people to give Hank decent head, considering the girth and the way it hung close to Hank’s stomach. But Gavin wouldn’t have any problems. He knew just how to work this thing. 

He couldn’t wait to get started.

Itchy with desire and impending need, Gavin stuck his tongue as far out as it would go. Ready for this dick. He licked the head and stroked a little, watching Hank’s thighs clench together in pleasure. 

Oh, he was going to get Hank off. Right here. Get him to come down his throat—choking him, maybe, just like Gavin deserved. Making more of a mess out of him than he already was—

_Ruin me._

He sucked the tip into his mouth and moaned in honest joy. Hank’s cockhead pulsed against his tongue, forcing his lips wide apart. Like a dream—

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” 

Suddenly Hank was pushing his face away. 

“…What’s wrong?” Gavin asked, desperation clear in his tone. 

Hank’s face was deep red. His hands were shaking as he stuffed his cock back into his pants. 

_No…_ Gavin reached for Hank’s dick again, but Hank swatted his hands away. So mean! Why would his daddy be cruel and tease him like this? 

“Look, do you know where we are right now?” Hank zipped up his pants and yanked Gavin to his feet. Glancing nervously toward the door. “Last thing either of us need is to get fired for this. I got enough of a record as it is.”

Gavin’s bottom lip trembled. He heard what Hank was saying but he didn’t want it to end so soon. He was just getting started, settling into what he really needed…

“Hey, don’t look at me like that.” Hank pulled Gavin close. Both hands on his waist. They felt nice there. “Relax. It’s…”

Hank closed his eyes and sighed. His shoulders slumped in defeat. When he looked up, he was resigned. “It’s not a no, okay? Nowhere near it. I mean…come on, didn’t you just see me?”

Gavin had. He perked up a bit as he realized what Hank meant. 

Nodding, Hank put his thumb on Gavin’s bottom lip. It felt like a power move and Gavin shuddered. “Yeah. I don’t get it up like that every time I come into the Archive Room, understand?” 

Gavin grinned. Yes, he remembered Hank’s twitching, burning cock. Gavin had done that. He’d made Hank hard! It felt like such a victory…he was ridiculously proud of himself. He wanted to put those words on a pin and wear it around for the rest of the day: _I gave Hank Anderson wood. So fuck the rest of you._

“But…yeah, it is kind of fast.” Hank frowned for a moment. It passed quickly, though. “For me anyway. Maybe we should cool down. Take some time and…think, or something. You know?” 

Gavin didn’t need any time. He knew exactly what he wanted. What he’d always want. Especially since Hank had held him just now, given him a tiny taste of his cock…he didn’t need to do any thinking.

But okay. After all, Hank was absorbing this for the first time. He probably needed a minute to reconcile the fact that Gavin—the piece of shit asshole around the station—wanted him so badly. Maybe he even needed to decided how far he wanted to go with any of this. Since sanity had returned.

Nodding tightly, Gavin let go of his sub headspace. Forced it all down somewhere underneath. Came back into himself. 

He took a few steps away from Hank. Turned his body. If Hank wasn’t sure how much he wanted this, then Gavin shouldn’t show him any more than he already had. He couldn’t leave himself wide open to a guy that might not be into him later. That was a recipe for disaster—emotionally, mentally. Shit like that. 

Gavin crossed his arms, hugging himself subconsciously. “How much time do you need?”

Hank ran a hand through his hair and puffed out some air. “Okay, that’s a fair question.” He thought for a second. “How about you come to my place tonight after work? I’ll text you the address.” 

Gavin instantly hated this plan. What if Hank never texted him? That would be like a rejection. A coward’s way of letting him down gently. Was Hank actually the worst kind of prick, coming up with something like that?

“Look, I’ll send it to you now so you know I’m not copping out.” As if reading his mind, Hank pulled out his cell phone and typed away a message. Seconds later, Gavin’s phone buzzed in his pocket. 

115 Michigan Drive. Hank was true to his word.

He looked at the older man curiously. What kind of a game was this? Hank didn’t look like he was lying. His hands were turned up in surrender, trying to show Gavin that he was sincere. 

Gavin narrowed his eyes. He had no idea what Hank was playing, what he was thinking. That sucked. That sucked worse than anything. This was all probably a terrible idea. Something that would end up hurting like a bitch when it was done—

Hank shrugged. “Your call, Reed.” 

It was, wasn’t it? Hank had bounced the ball back into Gavin’s court. Letting him turn this down if he felt weird. Giving his own terms. 

Was this how people normally did things? Negotiating and all that shit? Did this count as—

No that was just ridiculous. Gavin knew what he’d be getting if he went over Hank’s later. A good fuck. It wasn’t rocket science. And that’s just what he wanted.

“…Fine.” He’d take it. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and all that. “Tonight then. Your place.” 

He didn’t have anything else to say to Hank. If Hank wanted to leave it then they should just leave it, pretend like nothing happened until they had a chance to fuck later on. That was the only way Gavin had of solving any problems. If he fucked Hank good enough, then Hank would want him. Simple as that. Until then there was nothing to be done. 

He started to walk out.

“Wait!” Hank pulled Gavin back into the camera’s blindspot. “Are you seriously going out like that?” 

…Oh. Right. Gavin looked down at the mess he’d made of his pants. It was painfully obvious what he’d done. Shit he couldn’t believe he’d come in his pants like a fucking little kid…at work, of all places! No way he could let anyone else see him like this. His reputation would be ruined for life! Damn it all…

“So, do you have any spare clothes in your locker?” 

“…Yeah.” Of course he did. But the problem was getting to the locker room. It was upstairs and down the hall. There were plenty of cameras between here and there too. 

Was he fucked? Maybe he’d just have to wait in the blindspot until everyone else went home…because that wasn’t weird or suspicious at all…

Hank sighed again. “Alright, here.” He took off his jacket and turned it inside out. Like that, it didn’t even look like his anymore. Unrecognizable, at least from far away. “Tie this around your waist. Over the…wet spot. You should be able to get there without anyone asking questions. Just give them that edgy asshole look.”

Gavin scowled at him.

“Yeah, like that.” Hank smirked and held out his coat. 

Gavin hesitated before he took it. Not because it was a bad plan—it was the best Gavin was going to get in a situation like this—but because he’d be relying on Hank. For god’s sake, Hank had already made him cum…was Gavin ever going to even the score?!

He swiped the coat out of Hank’s hands and tied it around his waist. It covered all the most noticeable parts.

“….” Gavin opened his mouth to thank him, but then he wasn’t sure if he should. If he thanked him now it would be a thank you for all it—the touching, the way he’d held him, the coat, everything—and Gavin wasn’t ready to thank him for that yet. Not if it wasn’t going to lead anywhere.

Besides, ‘thank yous’ weren’t really his thing.

So he just walked away without a word. 

Let Hank chew on that if he needed something to fucking think about. 

_________________________________________

A few hours later (long after Gavin had changed into clean clothes, and left Hank’s coat discreetly on the back of Hank’s chair), Gavin’s phone buzzed again. 

It was Hank.

**Anderson:** _You want dinner or something too?_

Gavin scoffed. Of course he didn’t want fucking dinner! What kind of question was that? He wanted to be fucked! Hadn’t he made that obvious? Was Hank just teasing him now or was he being weird…

Who the hell could guess. Gavin just ignored the text. 

Thirty minutes later he got another one. 

**Anderson:** _Well I want dinner. I’m ordering pizza. Hope you like sausage._

Goddamn it! Now Hank was ordering food for him! He’d owe him for that, too. Gavin would have to figure out how much the pizza was and then staunchly refuse to pay anything less than half. He hated fucking haggling over shit like that. But he didn’t like other people paying for him if he didn’t know the terms first. And Hank was all over the place with his intentions. 

Maybe Gavin just wouldn’t eat any. Even though he was getting hungry…

Another text. Short and to the point.

**Anderson:** _But then I guess you do, huh?_

…Alright that was a pretty good jab. Gavin would give him that. Hell, he was smiling down at his phone like an idiot. Wasn’t every day he got a kick out of something like that, especially if the joke was on him.

Shaking his head, glancing over in Hank’s direction (the guy wasn’t even at his desk. Who the hell knew where he was, especially at this time of day), Gavin typed out his response. 

**Reed:** _Prick._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Gavin. Tsk, tsk. What are we going to do with you...
> 
> (I mean we all know what we're going to do, but you know. It's still fun ^w^) 
> 
> Thanks for all the encouragement, guys <3 Next chapter will be up in a week or so, hopefully!


	3. Hold Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's not sure he made the right decision. But here he is anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, with oodles and oodles of smut! Sorry for the long wait. Lot going on, you know how it is ;) 
> 
> Tags tags tags. All the tags ever!!! This gets intense o__o
> 
> Enjoy!

Gavin sat in the back of the cab and tried not to lose his shit. He glanced at the backpack on the seat next to him, the one he’d packed himself against his better judgement. 

Why the hell had he decided to bring that. 

Why had he agreed to do any of this. 

Gavin didn’t fuck in other people’s apartments. Not since those weird few months back when he was eighteen. He mostly didn’t like to think about those times. Some of those fucks were pretty good and others…not so much. Some of the shit he’d done back then hadn’t been because he wanted to; it was just because he needed a warm place to spend the night. The goal was the bed at the end of a shit day, not the sex. Now he hardly ever went to other people’s places. For anything.

But normal people fucked in houses. Not in sex clubs or in the backroom of a bar. Or in bathrooms or the Archive Room.

Right. Hank was a normal person. 

Gavin chewed on his lip and tried not to bounce his foot. He shouldn’t have brought the damn backpack. What was he thinking? As soon as Hank saw what was in there, he’d laugh his goddamn ass off. He’d know once and for all that Gavin was a complete low-life, a sick fuck who needed shit like this to get off—

Hell, Hank probably knew that already. Especially after what happened at the station. He had to know what Gavin really was: An out of control pervert. The kind of scum that threw itself at a person without even asking first, sucking dick like he needed it to breathe…

Yeah. The truth.

Gavin sighed and looked out the window. Maybe he should turn back. Before he got involved with this and left himself wide open for whatever ridicule was waiting for him at the end of all this. The last thing Gavin needed was to feel any worse than he already did. He’d been chasing the start of a downward spiral for a few months. Ever since he’d stopped having a reliable way to get off. Yeah. He saw himself on the edge of something real bad. A shitstorm he couldn’t run away from. Getting rejected by Hank—in any way, even a small one—would put him there in a heartbeat. Rip him to shreds.

Turning around would be the smart thing to do.

Except…

Well, Gavin was a good cop, but that didn’t mean he was smart. Beyond that, he was horny as hell. Worse than he’d ever been. Truthfully speaking, Gavin had been hard since the second he got into the cab. Knowing that Hank was waiting for him at the end of this ride. 

Actually, it was even before that. In the shower when he get ready to go. No, before that, when he was packing the backpack. Or maybe it was his rock hard dick that had driven him to pack that stuff in the first place. The throbbing need in his balls, the ache to get off just _one more time._ From Hank’s hands. Those hands around his neck or on his waist. His mouth…goddamn it, Gavin wanted to feel Hank again so bad he couldn’t think. He was just on autopilot, trying to get himself to Hank’s house as fast as he could.

Shit.

There really was no choice, was there? Gavin had to do this. If he didn’t, he’d lose his whole damn mind. And then where would he be? Right back at the start of some breakdown. So. 

He was laying everything on the line by going to Hank’s place. Putting himself entirely at Hank’s mercy. Sexually, but not just sexually. _Entirely_. They were playing with Gavin’s entire life here. His reputation, his sanity, his self worth. 

Did Hank know he had that kind of power right now? 

Maybe Gavin could play it casual. Yeah. He could. That was the best move he had. Pretend like this was no big deal for him. Like he went over people’s apartments and fucked on their beds all the time (instead of on the dirty floor of a private room he had to pay upfront for). 

Act normal. Act like he didn’t care what Hank thought about him, what he thought about any of this. Self defense.

He had to. 

“115 Michigan Drive.” The cab pulled up in front.

Moment of truth.

________________________________________________________ 

Hank answered the door in a ratty t-shirt (some death metal band on the front, Immolated Carcass was the name. The fuck…?) and boxers. These were clearly his casual clothes.

Good. Casual. Exactly. That’s what Gavin wanted. He’d worn the same clothes as always; his jacket, t-shirt, and pants. They were both casual then.

Great. 

(Although this death metal shirt was definitely meant for a younger version of Hank…as it was now, his chest stretched the material too tight. Gavin could see just how large Hank’s pecs were. Not muscly, but meaty. Thick. Everything about him was thick. Gavin wanted to put his head there and close his eyes—) 

“Heh, right on time.” Hank sort of smiled at him. 

Gavin swallowed hard and looked away, trying his full-on best to mask everything going through his head. 

The house was small. Just one level, the essentials. Nothing more than a one-bedroom apartment. A bonafide bachelor pad—there were beer cans and old pizza boxes stacked on the counters. And…

“Holy…” Gavin took a step back automatically when he saw some kind of… _thing_ ambling over to him. Brown and white, drooling in thick ropes. Big enough to be a small horse, but heavy enough to make the floorboards creak when it moved.

It barked in Gavin’s face, jumping up onto its back legs. Gavin couldn’t dodge it so he just had to take it—his back hit the wall hard as the thing’s front paws landed on his chest. Barking and barking. Its voice was as deep as a goddamn person’s! 

“Sumo, down.”

Right on cue, the thing dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. It lumbered away, back to its food bowl. Completely losing interest the second Hank spoke. 

A _pet_? Hank had a fucking pet? Something like _that_? How could anyone take care of something that huge?! And he needed to train it better! Gavin didn’t want to get jumped by some sloppy mutt (he wasn’t really a pet guy, to be honest). 

“…Is that a dog?” Gavin grumbled angrily. He brushed off his shirt and rolled his shoulders, shooting the dog a disgusted look. 

Hank led them into the kitchen. He threw a confused glance over his shoulder in Gavin’s direction. “Uh, yeah. What the hell’s it look like?” 

“Tch.” Gavin crossed his arms and stood in the kitchen doorway. “Looks like you’re keeping a goddamn pony in here. Jesus Christ.” 

Hank rumbled a short laugh. “Guess you’re not a dog person.” There was already a pizza box and some beer cans on the table. Hank grabbed one. “You’re not allergic are you?”

“No.” 

“Well, good. Here.” Hank held out the beer can, looking Gavin in the eye. It pissed Gavin off how easy that was for him to do. He had to glance away. 

Damn. Damn damn damn…why wasn’t he brave enough to meet Hank’s gaze? 

Was it because every time he saw those soft blue eyes he thought about kissing him? How close they were before? How that memory made his heart feel like it was stuttering in his chest? Panting. Trying to catch its breath. Failing. 

He took the beer because he didn’t have anything else to do. He had no intention of drinking it. 

Hank paused for a moment. He could sense something was off. Goddamn, he had good cop senses. Gavin knew he did. Which is why he needed to keep his mouth shut until he had something smart to say. Otherwise he’d be made.

“I have harder stuff if you want, too,” Hank offered. He sat down at the kitchen table, letting Gavin off the hook. “Scotch. Dewars mostly. Some Black Lam.” 

I know you do, asshole, Gavin wanted to say. No shit. 

But he didn’t. He just thumbed the top of the beer and said, “Nah, I’m good.” 

“Okay.” Hank pulled out a slice of pizza—or, another one, it looked like he’d already started eating before Gavin got there. He ate in silence for a few moments. Downing about half the slice before he took a sip of beer. 

Gavin just stood in the doorway. He glanced around the kitchen, taking in his environment. He wasn’t going to sit because he hadn’t been asked to yet. Wasn’t that how it worked at other people’s apartments? You had to wait to do things until you were invited. Or at least, as far as Gavin remembered that’s how it was.

He wanted to look like he at least knew what he was doing. Or something. Like he’d been a house guest plenty of times.

Eventually, Hank had to ask. “Are you gonna sit down?” 

Oh. From that tone, it sounded like maybe Gavin was wrong about that whole thing. Time to play it cool.

He shrugged like he didn’t care and slowly took a seat. From here he could smell how fresh the pizza was. Hank had ordered from one of the best cheap places in town. Gavin’s go-to pizza joint. He had forgotten to eat beforehand (as had been the original plan) and now his stomach gurgled as the smell hit him. Shit, he should have remembered to eat so this wouldn’t happen—

“Help yourself.” Hank pushed the pizza box closer to Gavin. Chewing and eyeing him curiously while Gavin weighed his options. 

It was weird not to eat, right? Not after Hank offered like that. Besides Gavin really was hungry. He might as well. The pizza was cheap…he could always pay Hank back afterwards.

Shrugging again, Gavin took a slice. The first bite washed over him like a sigh of relief. It was warm and greasy. So good. A familiar taste that made his stomach purr in happiness.

Okay. Hank had made a good call ordering dinner first. 

Nodding, Hank tucked into his food and said nothing. He seemed satisfied now that Gavin had finally eaten something. More relaxed. His face mellowed and he stared at the floor. Lost in thought. 

Gavin wondered what they should talk about. Would Hank jump right into it? Grill him about his sexual preferences? Demand to know what the hell Gavin was on that he’d pulled a stunt on him at work? Or was he thinking of a way to let Gavin down gently? Tell him that he’d thought about it and he just wasn’t interested? That probably made the most sense, considering this whole deal with dinner and everything. Try to soften the blow or something. Like an asshole. 

But actually Hank said none of those things. “Did you talk to Chris today?”

“…What?” Gavin stopped chewing long enough to wrap his head around that question. It came completely out of nowhere!

“Yeah, you guys talk a lot, right?” Hank asked.

Gavin sputtered. “I mean…no, like, not a lot. He’s not, it’s not like we’re _friends_ or anything. It’s just work shit and I barely know him, you know how it is—” 

Hank sighed and held up a hand to stop him. “Fine, whatever. I was just wondering if you talked to him because that kid looked like complete shit today.” 

He had? Gavin tried to remember but he couldn’t. He’d spent his entire day at the station and…well, in the Archive Room. He hadn’t seen Chris even once. 

Besides Chris was an asshole and they weren’t friends. Not at all. If Chris looked shitty then who even cared. Wasn’t on Gavin to check up on him or some bullshit…

“…He alright?” Gavin asked anyway. 

Hank shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, he’ll be alright. I caught him before I left. Turns out his girlfriend left him.” 

“Oh, shit.” Gavin was honestly surprised to hear that. He’d thought things were going really well. Chris was crazy about her, he’d made that pretty clear. Trying to make himself into a better person, or so he said. (That sounded hard to do.)

“He’s broken up about it, but. You know.” Hank polished off another slice. “Shit happens. He’s a young guy. He’ll find another girl pretty quick I’m sure.” 

“Knowing him, yeah,” Gavin agreed. He was thirsty so he opened the beer in front of him and took a swig. The carbonation followed the grease from the pizza so nicely. Nothing like it.

Ah, hell with it, he did kind of feel bad for Chris. Guy was a jerk, but. It sucked having your heart broken (Gavin should know). Maybe he’d take Chris out for a few drinks some night. Soon. Let the guy get drunk. Bro down, whatever. Maybe he could help him pick up another girl if they want to a nice place. A club, but a normal one. Gavin knew a couple of those too.

“I offered to take him to a Gears game next week to cheer him up. They’re playing on Wednesday. And Chris is a total Gearhead, you know.” Hank downed the rest of his beer and fluently opened another one. 

That was a good idea too. Chris loved sports and shit, especially basketball. So did Gavin, actually. He was wearing his Detroit Gears shirt as they were sitting there.

“You should come too, if yoy want,” Hank added. 

He was looking Gavin in the eye again. This time Gavin could look back and hold his gaze—for a few seconds, before he realized that Hank was asking him out. Not like _out_ out, not an actual thing. But still, it was another opportunity for them to see each other outside of work. It sounded…friendly. As if Hank were looking for ways for them to spend time together—

No, no. He wasn’t. Of course not. He was just being polite. Besides, it was for Chris, obviously. Hank just wanted to invite Gavin because he thought they were friends (which, again, they weren’t). Gavin could just as easily turn down the invite and it wouldn’t matter at all…

But he wouldn’t. He’d go. Only because he didn’t want Hank taking credit for getting Chris back on his feet. And because it would be fun. Not because Hank was there. Just because basketball games were a good time.

“Sure, I’ll go.” Gavin shrugged yet again. That was his default move tonight (sort of always?). “Someone should try and keep the average age under 50, I guess.” 

Hank huffed through his nose, mid-sip. He choked out a surprised laugh. “Wow. Nice shot. Watch where you’re aiming, damn.” 

Gavin smiled, proud of himself. He liked that he could make fun of Hank without being taken too seriously. That Hank could laugh at himself. That he appreciated Gavin’s cutting brand of humor.

He took another slice of pizza, his posture relaxing on its own. Hank asked if he saw the game the night before and Gavin said yes. They went back and forth about it. Then they just talked sports for a while.

It only occurred to Gavin once they cleaned up the empty pizza box that they’d just had a long conversation 100% not about sex. He was kind of shocked. Had Hank invited him over just to hang out? Definitely not, right? That would be such a letdown—

Even though, Gavin had to admit he was enjoying himself. He wasn’t feeling any pressure. He didn’t have to pretend to be anything, and he didn’t have to act like the world’s biggest tease just to turn him on either. Hank hadn’t jumped right into ridiculing him for what happened that afternoon. He just seemed to want to talk. 

Gavin realized he didn’t really mind talking to Hank. It was easy. Way easier than he thought it’d be. 

They wound up in Hank’s living room. Sitting on the couch while a re-rerun of last night’s game played on the TV. Gavin had barely managed to finish one beer (he wasn’t a beer person either) and now he realized his hands were empty. That suddenly made him feel awkward. Well, awkward and…

He glanced over at Hank. He wanted to put his hands on this guy again. On his neck, the place that made Hank shiver ever so slightly earlier. On his chest. …On his cock. That thick, chubby thing…it would be so easy to get to with Hank wearing nothing but boxers. All Gavin needed to do was slip his hand inside. Hank didn’t even have to do anything. Gavin could get him off nice and easy. Or rough. Or slow. However Hank wanted it. 

God, how _did_ he want it? This sexy fucking beast of a man that blindsided Gavin over and over again…

Without asking—feeling like maybe they were past all that, especially now that they’d been talking for long—Gavin put his hand on Hank’s shoulder. He inched forward, letting his hand slide up Hank’s neck. Into his hair. His mouth wasn’t far behind. He leaned in, aiming for Hank’s ear. He knew the guy liked it there—

“Alright. Let’s talk, Reed.” Hank moved away slowly. Blocking Gavin’s kiss and creating space in between them that felt like a punch to the gut. Gavin lurched forward in disappointment. 

Was Hank actually the worst cocktease in Detroit? Seemed very likely at this point.

Hank looked at him seriously. He ran his hand down the side of Gavin’s face, holding him by the chin. Searching his eyes. Gavin let out a shaky breath, lips wet and ready to be kissed. He felt pinned. Naked, again. He wanted to be naked right now. 

_Fuck_. All the pent up desire churning inside of him…it was all rising to the surface. Gavin clenched his teeth as he tried to ride out the urge to jump into Hank’s lap. He wanted to beg again. He wanted to be on the floor. He wanted to be underneath Hank—

“What’s going on here?” Hank carded his fingers through Gavin’s hair. “Tell me the truth.” 

Gavin bit his bottom lip. How could he explain? Wasn’t it obvious? Hadn’t they already talked enough, goddamn it?! 

“…What do you mean?” he asked quietly. His eyelids fluttered when Hank tugged a little at the hair between his fingers. 

“I mean, this afternoon. What was that?” Hank’s brow furrowed. His voice was low, but honest. His eyes still searching. Seeking something Gavin didn’t know if he could give. “And all this….you’re really not on anything?” 

Gavin groaned in annoyance. “I’m not! Shit, stop asking!” He pulled his head out of Hank’s grasp. 

This guy was starting to piss him off. 

“Look, I’m just trying to figure this out, okay?” Hank was louder now. At his wits ends. “Maybe this isn’t a big deal for you, but it is for me. Far as I know, you’ve always hated me and now… _this_? Practically fucking assaulting me in the evidence room? Because you want it so bad?” 

Right. That. A sinking feeling pulled at Gavin’s chest. He couldn’t go too far in the direction of actually explaining anything. He didn’t even know how. 

“If you’re hard up for a good lay…I mean, I get that, okay? I was young once, too. But why me? Why all of a sudden? What changed? We’ve known each other a while. Has it always been like this for you?” 

Gavin shook his head. There was so much that led him here. So many moments—of course the big one was the time in the bathroom at Grey Dog. But how could he get Hank to even understand that? For someone who didn’t know Gavin, that would have been nothing. Not even a blip on the radar of sexual experiences or flirting or anything.

Naturally, there was the undeniable fact: This is just who Gavin was. When he wanted someone—a guy his type—he fell head over heels. Not in love, but in _wanting._ In needing, like the slut he was inside. Yeah. He fell hard and fast. And he’d never fallen so hard or so fast for anyone like he had with Hank.

Hank just hit it right. 

He put his head in his hands and covered his face. Words were his weakest area, especially when it came to talking about himself. But Hank was asking direct questions. There was no way to avoid them.

He had to be at least partially honest. Only as much as he could stomach.

“…It’s been a few weeks,” Gavin murmured. Barely audible. “…Since Grey Dog.” 

He wasn’t looking at Hank. He didn’t want to know what the guy’s face looked like in this moment. As he slowly figured it out. Or didn’t. 

“Oh. Okay.” That’s all Hank said at first. His weight shifted on the couch. “So since then.” 

A low sigh echoed around the space between their bodies. “I’m not going to pretend I understand that, alright? But, if that’s how it is then…okay.” Hank’s heavy hand fell on Gavin’s back. “So it’s been a few weeks.”

Gavin nearly jumped, not expecting to be touched again. He spun around to face Hank and was surprised to find that Hank didn’t look angry. He wasn’t cold or upset. He was staring at Gavin with vague concern. And also…acceptance. 

The real word for that look was something Gavin was afraid to say. He knew it as a feeling. Like a pulse, emanating through his skin. Through every part of him. The same feeling he got wearing a warm coat on a cold day. The feeling he spent most of his life chasing—in clubs and bars and everywhere else he possibly could. 

He knew that look as a way to say: _Alright. I’m down._

Was Hank really down for this? For anything? 

“It’s okay,” Hank said carefully. “Just talk to me. I need to know what I’m dealing with here. Because, you know, it’s not every day….”

He trailed off. Gavin sat up straight, starting to feel like he was edging into personal territory for Hank. His mind worked fast putting the pieces together. Maybe Hank’s hesitations weren’t just about Gavin, about how much of a pathetic little bitch he was. Maybe they were also about Hank.

Oh. Shit. 

Hank grimaced and said, “Fuck it. This has never happened to me before, man.” 

Gavin closed the distance between them. Understanding more and more by the second. He laid his hands on Hank’s chest. Feeling the way the older man heaved his breaths. The dampness from his sweat. 

“What hasn’t happened to you before?” Gavin asked. Knowing now how personal this was for Hank.

How personal it was for both of them. 

Hank shrugged. “I mean no one’s ever jumped me like that. Out of nowhere. And….shit, Gavin…” 

His name on Hank’s lips was a delicious kind of hit. Stronger than anything Gavin had ever had before. He moaned and slid into Hank’s lap. Happiness outweighing all the awkwardness and uncertainty. The sheer joy of being _here_ , in this man’s lap, being called by his name for the first time….

This was getting him there. Gavin already had one foot into subspace, the other standing on crumbling ground. Dying to follow. 

Hank let it happen. He let Gavin sit on him, rub his hands over his chest. Hank let it all happen while he just stared at him. With that steady look of acceptance. Bewilderment, also, and sadness—fuck that sadness. Was it always there?

“The way you kissed me…” Hank shook his head. He was speaking so low Gavin could feel the words rumbling through his bones. “No one’s kissed me like that in a long time. A real long time.” 

Gavin kissed Hank’s cheek. He wanted to kiss away the sadness that would try to distract Hank. He didn’t want Hank to focus on anything except him. He wanted Hank to focus on how much he wanted this—because if that hard on Gavin saw that afternoon was any indication, Hank wanted this. Like a man should. He wanted Hank to be strong, to show off the strength he’d seen in him a few times now. 

_Be strong, Daddy…_

Gavin kissed Hank on the mouth. Rough but controlled. Forcing Hank’s face to bend to his motions. Making him feel it.

_That’s it. That’s me. Can’t you feel me, Daddy? I want you so bad…_

The little inside Gavin was screaming to get out. He didn’t know how long he could keep it in, but he also knew he shouldn’t let it out until Hank said it was okay. Until Hank knew exactly what Gavin was on the inside and how he could handle him.

Hank could be so good at handling him. 

“Mmm…”

Gavin’s hungry moans blended into the grunts from Hank’s mouth. They were pawing at each other as they kissed. Hank’s hands slipped underneath Gavin’s t-shirt, roaming over his bare skin. It made him want to scream. Losing himself, Gavin grabbed fistfuls of Hank’s pectoral muscles and _squeezed_. 

“Ngh.” Hank pulled his mouth away. Grimacing, teeth clenching as Gavin did it again. 

He liked that. _Yes._

Gavin’s eyes went wide, trying to take in everything about Hank that he could. He glanced down at Hank’s lap and saw a chubby cock pressing against the waistband of his boxers. Peeking through the top. Incorrigible. Made sense, with the way Hank’s dick curved when he got hard.

“Heh, yeah, look at that…” Hank commented. Almost wistful. “You turned me on in no time at all, kid. Like lighting a match. Fuck.” 

Gavin preened, extremely proud to have that kind of power. He especially loved the way Hank seemed to say it as a compliment. Like he was impressed with Gavin, or grateful, or even…

_Aren’t you proud of me, Daddy?_

It was too much. Hank was smiling at him. Beaming. Alive, so goddamn alive. And Gavin just wanted—he couldn’t stop it from happening—he needed to get there—

Growling like an animal, Gavin hit the ground so fast his knees hurt. He needed to submit. 

_I’m yours._

“I’m yours,” he said, before he could stop it. “I’m all yours…so do whatever you want to me.” 

He was staring at Hank’s dick, waiting to be told he was allowed to suck him. From this angle, he couldn’t miss the way Hank’s cock twitched at those words. The way he grew just a little bit more when Gavin licked his lips. He could tell Hank was into it. 

This was going to happen.

Hank swallowed audibly. “What do you want me to do?” His voice was thick now. Dry. 

So, so many options.

“Hmm…” Gavin was deep into subspace now. Ecstatic and aching all at once. Floaty. Not really there, but also more aware than he ever was. “You could fuck my throat. Put your cock in as far as you can…as hard as you want…” 

He rubbed his face against the side of Hank’s dick as he spoke, inhaling the smell. Indulging himself by licking the tip just a little. Peeling back Hank’s boxers so he could see the rest of him. Swirling his tongue against Hank’s cockhead to spur him on. 

“Shit, kid…” Hank held Gavin’s face in both his hands. Not stopping him. “Would you like that? Me fucking your throat?” 

Gavin looked up. His eyes were wide and honest. “I’d love it.”

“Fuck. Take it, then.” 

Scowling—clearly trying to control himself—Hank fed his cock into Gavin’s mouth. Gavin swallowed it down in one gulp. His throat stretched painfully—at this point pain was a warning sign as much as it was a little kick to his system, a way of letting him know he was doing something right. He kept going. Forcing Hank’s cock to the back of his throat. Deeper and deeper…

Hank rolled his hips forward. Now he was getting in there properly. Gavin’s jaw hung as open as it could. The back of his tongue burned when Hank thrust in again. It’d probably hurt to talk the next day—oh god yes. Gavin grunted in pain and helpless pleasure.

_Keep going, keep going. Fucking use me…_

Hank pulled back when he saw Gavin recoil. “You okay?” he asked, legitimately worried.

Damn. That kind of ruined the scene. Real reality made itself known and it sucked. He hated real shit getting in the way.

Gavin pulled off. “I’m fine,” he grunted. “You can go harder.” 

Hank thrust in again. More shallow this time. “Harder than this?” 

Hell yeah, way harder than that! Gavin frowned and nodded, trying to get back into the right headspace. He sucked on the velvety cock in his mouth, hoping Hank could take the hint. 

“Whoa…” Hank’s hips stuttered. He was getting off on it, good. But he still wasn’t giving Gavin what he needed. He wasn’t riding him fast, he was taking his time. Way too measured and not deep enough.

Gavin pulled off again. “Harder,” he demanded. He palmed himself over his jeans. Coaxing himself to be into it. 

Hank smeared the drool and pre-cum on Gavin’s lips with his thumb. “Jesus, kid, how hard do you want it?”

Ah. 

They locked eyes. Gavin bit his lip, some of his nervousness returning. Maybe Hank hadn’t realized yet. Hadn’t seen to the heart of what Gavin needed from him. 

Damn it. 

Frustrated and pent up, Gavin glanced at the backpack he brought. He’d left it on the floor next to the couch, near his jacket. He thought about everything inside there and shuddered—

 Hank followed his gaze. “Hm? Something in that backpack?” 

Closing his eyes in defeat, Gavin nodded. 

“Heh. Okay. Something in there you want, huh.” Hank was smiling on one side of his face. “Why don’t you show me?” 

That smile meant the world to Gavin. If Hank was smiling then he wasn’t angry—he wasn’t pissed that their first scene hadn’t worked out. He still wanted to keep going.

Buoyed by joy and tingling excitement, Gavin leapt to his feet. He scrambled to the backpack and held it out to Hank. Silently urging him to look. If Hank liked what he saw in there, then… 

Gavin ran a hand over the burning ache between his legs. He was shaking and panting. He wanted this more than he could say, for Hank to look in there and understand. If he laughed at what he saw or if he was disgusted, then that was that. But Gavin hoped…he really hoped….he just wanted…

_Please don’t laugh at me._

Hank took the backpack, testing the weight in his hand. He saw the desperate look Gavin was giving him. “Come on,” he said. Touching Gavin on the shoulder. “Let’s go inside.”  

Inside?  

Wordlessly, Gavin followed Hank into his bedroom. He blinked when Hank turned on the lights. Okay, a bedroom. The place normal people went to when they had sex. Now everything was out in the open. Or at least it would be when Hank looked in the bag…Gavin shuddered as he heard the sounds of unzipping. 

At first, silence. Then: 

“…Okay.” 

Steeling himself, Gavin watched Hank take out a length of red silky rope. The first of several things Gavin had thrown in there—just some stuff he sometimes liked to play with. He didn’t really have any favorites when it came to toys, but if his dom liked to use them then Gavin was always down. He’d brought them along in case Hank wanted to experiment or if he needed a little help…

But of course, this could also be the point where Hank backed down. A firm no. No way.

Gavin froze as he tried to read the look on Hank’s face. Fuck, though. That guy was completely unreadable. 

Hank laid the rope on the bed. He reached in and took out a leather covered cat o’ nine tails (not at all Gavin’s favorite, but he had nothing to work with here so he just brought a little of everything). Saying nothing, Hank kept going. He pulled out a paddle, some handcuffs, nipple clamps, a spreader bar, a ball gag. A harness that was supposed to go around Gavin’s thighs, tying them to his wrists. _That_ he was pretty into. 

And each of these things, in Hank’s hands, became the sexiest things in the world. Hank wasn’t shying away from them. He held them the way they were meant to be held. Even if he did raise an eyebrow at the harness, clearly not understanding what it was for. 

Quietly, Hank put the empty backpack on the floor. Eyeing each toy with scrutiny. When his gaze turned back to Gavin, Gavin flinched. Face as red as a stop sign. Turned on past the point of no return.

_Now you see me._

_…Do you like it, Daddy?_

“…So it’s true, then,” Hank said slowly. “What Collins was saying the other night. You’re into this stuff?” 

Gavin swallowed loudly. Tears pricked his eyes as he remembered that night. The way they were all making fun of him…and Hank, coming to his defense. This was completely different though. Being face to face with it—asked to participate—

He sighed through his nose. Looking away. “Yeah, it’s true.” 

Hank nodded. He ran his fingers over the cat o’nine tails, testing the give of the leather. Gavin thought he could feel that touch on his own skin. A gentle caress or the bite of the whip. They did the same things to him. He _wanted_ …

Squinting, Hank scratched one of his eyebrows and said, “Okay. So, I mean, were you planning on using all of these tonight or…?” 

A choking laugh burst out of Gavin before he could stop it.

Wow. What a response. And a crazy fucking suggestion. Every single one of those toys all in one night? Now, _that_ would be a hell of a time. If it was even possible to get done.

Gavin shook his head. “Fuck no, I mean…unless you want to…?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m down for whatever. Any of that or, you know…” He shrugged. _Be cool_. “None of it. I just brought it in case you’d be into it. But it’s up to you, like…whatever you want.”  

Absorbing that, Hank ran a hand through his hair. Pushing all those loose grey strands off his face for a moment. He had a gorgeous face. Worn, but chiseled. Gavin wished he could see more of it. 

“Alright,” Hank said eventually. He closed the distance between them, wrapping an arm around Gavin’s waist. “I get it. Honestly can’t say I have too much experience with this kind of stuff, but…” He smiled on one side of his face. “I’ll figure it out.” 

_Yes._  

_You know what to do, don’t you?_

Oh god was this real life? Hank had seen the backpack and he wasn’t freaked out or turned off. He maybe even wanted to try some stuff…or maybe not, but either way his hands were on Gavin. Reaching underneath the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. 

Gavin shivered, naked to the waist. He loved the way Hank was looking at him. There was a harsh gleam in the older man’s eyes, a look of honest hunger. Fuck yes. Hank liked what he saw. 

_Yes. Yes yes yes—_

Licking his lips, Gavin dragged his fingers down Hank’s chest. He could be whatever Hank wanted him to be. He could do anything—and he would.

He latched onto Hank like a magnet. Lining their bodies up perfectly, so that they were flush against each other. He kissed Hank’s cheek, hoping his kisses said something he couldn’t say in words: How much he adored Hank. As a fucking person. God yes, this man who just accepted him on sight no matter what kind of dumb shit Gavin pulled. 

“Just tell me what to do,” Gavin whispered in Hank’s ear. He sucked on his earlobe and whined when he saw him shiver. He wanted Hank to be into this even half as much as he was. “You can order me around. Slap the shit out of me if you want. Or you can tie me up and fuck me. Make me beg for it…” 

Hank sucked in a deep breath. He let it out gently, as if trying to keep the lid on something going on inside of him. 

When he was done breathing, Hank grabbed him by the chin. _Rough_. It was the roughest Hank had been with him yet and Gavin couldn’t help the moan that came out of him. The gleam in Hank’s eyes was stronger now. 

_That look…!_

“I can, huh?” Hank crooned. “I can do all that? So you’re saying I call the shots?” 

“Yup.” Gavin nodded. His knees trembled every second Hank looked at him like that. 

“Good to know.” Hank thumbed the side of Gavin’s mouth, pulling at his face. Testing. Gavin let him do it. Showing him that it was fine. They weren’t at work—this was a completely different version of Gavin that Hank was meeting for the first time. “But, you should probably say something if you really want me to stop. Like, a safe word or something.” 

Right. Gavin explained the standard system. Red for stop, yellow for just that and no more. Green for keep going. It wasn’t the most brilliant thing in the world, not nearly the most creative system he’d ever used, but fuck it. This would work. Gavin just wanted to start already! 

“Sounds fair.” Hank stood up a little straighter. It looked like he wanted the same thing. “You should keep talking to me, too. A lot. So I know what’s good and what’s not.” 

“I will…” Gavin was getting there. His little was trying to inch its way out of him…and when Hank towered over him like that, it only made things worse. 

“Good.” Without warning, Hank shoved Gavin back with two fingers. Enough force that Gavin stumbled a little. “Then get off my dick for five seconds and listen up.” 

_Oh._

Hank’s voice left no room for contradictions. And his face…it was fucking perfect. 

“Yes, Da—” Shit. Gavin clamped his mouth shut as hard as he could. Forcing the word back wherever it came from. That place inside of him. They had only just started playing, and Hank hadn’t agreed to anything like that yet. 

You stupid fucking whore stop being so greedy—

Hank frowned for a second, but he let it go. If he knew what Gavin had tried to say, he didn’t mention it. 

All he did was start giving orders for real. 

“Here’s how it’s going down. You’re gonna get naked and then you’re gonna get on the bed. Face down, on your knees. Ass up. As high as you can. And I don’t want to hear a single complaint out of you, get me?” 

Gavin nodded tightly. His mouth coiled into a pucker. He couldn’t speak. If he did, his little would come pouring out—

“I need you to say it.”

Oh shit. He had no choice.

Weak, Gavin parted his lips and squeaked out, “…I get you…” 

“Good. Now do it.” Hank crossed his arms and watched. 

This was the part Gavin loved. The part where he could just slip into subspace and do whatever he was told. With Hank standing there, giving directions like a natural, it was so easy. 

All Gavin needed to do was keep it at this level. No further. Hank didn’t have to find out about the other side of him, the deeper part. The part that most people, even if they were into kink, would be freaked out by. Fine, so. He would keep it inside.

He undid his pants and pulled them down, taking his socks off with them. The carpet was surprisingly plush under his feet. Much fluffier than the dirty carpet of the club—but he didn’t want to think about that place right now.

He just wanted to think about Hank. 

Locking eyes with him, Gavin slid his briefs down his legs. Off his feet. Standing there nude and hard—dripping, especially once Hank looked at him.

Hank’s adam’s apple bobbed as he watched. Swallowing. Shifting his weight. Into it. 

_Yes, look at me—_

“You know what’s next,” Hank grumbled. His voice nearly cracked. 

Gavin bit his lip and scrambled onto the bed, next to the pile of toys he’d brought. He was quick to follow Hank’s orders. Not hesitating to get on all fours, drop his face to the mattress. Present his ass to Hank like he’d been waiting to do this for fucking years (which he had). He wanted to make Hank proud of him. To be pleased that Gavin knew how to listen, that he wasn’t afraid to look like a slut if it turned Hank on—

“Yeah, that’s it…” Hank came over and ran a hand down Gavin’s bare back. He pushed him down further. Grabbing his hips to raise them higher. It sent a shiver through Gavin, made him so hot he felt delirious. “Get that ass up.” 

So Gavin obeyed. He bent himself so far forward, stretching his ass out for Hank, that he looked like an upside-down V. A position that squished his shoulders against the bed and he didn’t even care.

“Like this…?” he whispered, wanting to know he was doing a good job.

“Just like that,” Hank murmured. He fondled Gavin’s ass a few times. Prodding the flesh with his thumb, squeezing little handfuls here and there. Getting a good feel. Rumbling in approval. 

Relief trickled over Gavin. This was okay. He was doing okay. Hank was in control and he knew what he wanted. If Gavin fell out of line, Hank would bring him back quick.

Everything was fine. 

Gavin exhaled slowly into the mattress. Letting the floaty feeling take over. 

“Give me your hands,” Hank barked. He grabbed them anyway and held them behind Gavin’s back. Knocking him down onto his face. 

“Nnh, yes…” Gavin moaned. His cock thrummed hot and hard the more Hank manhandled him. 

Hank shoved Gavin’s hands up between his shoulder blades. This was a takedown they were taught in the academy. A high stress restraining position. It interrupted blood flow and pulled at the muscles in the shoulders. Made it hard to think. Designed to immobilize a violent assailant mid-arrest. 

Gavin groaned in pleasure. Dizzy with happiness. He heard Hank sifting through the toys. As soon as he felt the handcuffs on his wrists Gavin knew he was in for it. 

“Oh, fuck yes…” He was hogtied. Ass in the air. Squirming and helpless in front of Hank. Weak and hungry and small…feverish and desperate… 

Exactly where he belonged. 

Calmly, saying nothing, Hank locked the handcuffs in place. They were the kind that did not need a key (as a safety precaution). Try as Gavin might, he couldn’t wiggle into a more comfortable position. His biceps already hurt and his hands were going numb. 

Hank bent over him, covering him with his much wider frame. He kissed the side of Gavin’s and whispered, “How’s that?” 

“So good…” Gavin blubbered. He twisted his neck, trying to bend so that Hank would kiss him there. He wanted Hank to bite him again.

Fuck, he wanted Hank to hurt him. Especially in this position—when he was like this, it felt only natural for him to be—

“I think I need to be punished,” Gavin begged in a high voice. Almost his _other_ voice, but not quite. “I’ve been bad…” 

Hank buried a hand in Gavin’s hair and tugged. He spoke over the high-pitched whine that came out of the man underneath him. “Oh yeah? Why’s that? What did you do that was so bad?” 

“I…” But even as he spoke, he felt Hank’s hand on his ass again. The fingers wandering over his crease, parting them just enough to brush his hole. Making his words come out sloppy. His own pre-cum dripping onto the bed beneath him. “I…turned you on…at work…didn’t ask if I could first…” 

The fingers fell away and Gavin whined in disappointment. He wanted Hank inside him so badly he literally couldn’t think about anything else. 

“Heh, yeah, you’re right. You made it pretty hard for me to keep working, you know,” Hank ruffled his hair. Ruining whatever style Gavin had done before he got here. He even delivered a swift rapt to Gavin’s backside with the backs of his knuckles. 

“Ah!” Gavin trembled, legitimately worried for a moment that he might come. Hank reprimanding him was the sweetest, hottest thing he’d ever—

“And you can’t just go around jumping people, Reed. No matter how horny you are. That’s going to get you in a lot of trouble.” Hank rummaged through the toys again. “Maybe you need to learn that lesson for real.” 

Gavin nodded wildly. He wished he could see which toys Hank was thinking about. He wanted to watch his daddy deliberating over which punishment to choose. He wanted that big lump of fear-excitement in his throat, the kind he got when he knew he was really going to get it. 

“Yeah.” Hank grunted a barebones a chuckle. “I got just the thing.” 

He’d made his choice. He reached around Gavin’s hogtied body to show him the paddle. He brought up right up to his face so Gavin could see exactly what he needed to take. 

The paddle was lacquered hardwood, sturdy and well-tested for durability. It was covered in leather around the flat part. The part that delivered all the blows. There were also small metal studs jutting out from the leather on one side. For added stimulation, added punishment. Hank turned the paddle in his hand—like a fucking pro—and showed Gavin the side without studs. Just plain leather.

To start, Gavin hoped.

He nodded so hard he made himself lightheaded. His blood wasn’t flowing properly either because of the handcuffs, so there was also a ringing in his ears. 

Keeping one hand buried in Gavin’s hair, Hank patted his ass with the paddle a few times. Not strikes, just touches. More of a tease than anything. The leather was cold but smooth. It felt almost like flesh. Those pats were soft but so controlled; they hinted at something greater. A good amount of force behind Hank’s hand, should he chose to use it.

For love of fucking everything, Gavin needed him to do it. _Just fucking do it, fuck me up, make me scream, make me cry—_

“Like I said before, not a single complaint. No whining, no edgy asshole comments.” Hank’s voice lowered. Leaning into aggression. “You take your punishment and you thank me for it. Every time. Understood?"

“Yes—” 

But before Gavin could even fully comply, Hank spanked him. The paddle hit him hard right on the meat of his ass. The first hit was always the worst and the sweetest—it stung enough to make his whole body clench. And Hank did have a hell of a swing; the paddle bruised right down to the bone and it was glorious. 

_More_.

“What do you say?” Hank bellowed. Loud and deep.

Forcing his mouth to work around the sweeping pleasure coursing through him, Gavin stuttered, “Th-th-thank you….” 

“Hmph.” Hank hit him again. A little harder. Lower too, at the fleshy part that stung every time his ass jiggled from the blow. “You can do better than that.”

Shaking from the force of being hit, in _that_ part of his body, where a daddy should reprimand his—Gavin rolled his head on the bed, mouth open. Drool staining the sheets. “Thank you…”

“Again. Louder.” Hank hit him a third time.

“Thank you!” Gavin was howling now. The pain creeping into the rest of his body, consuming him. Silencing everything in his brain except the feel of the paddle.

“That was pretty good.” Hank thumbed his reddening ass cheeks, checking for damage. “But I think you need a little more.” 

He hit him again.

“Ah, thank you!” 

And again. “Thank you!!” And again. “Thank you, fuck!” And again, harder. “I’m sor—Thank you!”

And on it went, until Gavin didn’t feel the pain anymore. This was the part he craved: The endorphins. The fucking chemicals in his messed up brain that made him feel fantastic. That made everything hazy and wonderful and good—

His body spasmed. Ready for a release.

Shit, he was seconds away from cumming. His dick swollen and weeping, begging for even the slightest touch. It would be more than enough. He couldn’t help it and he even wanted it—truthfully he loved coming like this, with the happiness in his veins and a strong hand on his body, keeping him grounded. Hank was still gripping him by the hair and that was perfect. 

He wanted to feel Hank as he fell over the edge. 

He wanted Hank to hold him through it, like last time—

“See, Reed?” Hank huffed. Panting a bit from the exertion of hitting Gavin so many times. “You can say thank you just fine. It sounds pretty nice coming from you.” 

“Ah, please…” Gavin was ready to beg for his climax at this point. 

“Heh, you got a nice please too,” Hank added. He curled his hand aroundGavin’s mouth, prodding his lips. “Think I’d like to hear more of it.” 

“ _Please_. Please please please pleasepleaseplease…” Gavin said it so many times it lost all meaning. 

Humming with relish, Hank stroked the paddle along Gavin’s lower back. He flipped it over to the studded side and dragged it down across his ass too, where those studs aggravated his bruised flesh. Gavin shook, wishing he could feel Hank’s hand on his cock. The strong hand that could punish him seriously…he wanted it right where he needed it the most… 

But he didn’t deserve that yet. 

Maybe he didn’t deserve any of this. 

…Shit, why was he spiraling? What was wrong? Hank was still touching him. He was right there, so why…? 

 “You’re pretty good at taking it, too,” Hank said, voice gentling. “I’m actually surprised. I kind of thought you’d crumble and start crying the second I started hitting you. But no. You can take a hit, huh?” 

He laughed and pressed a kiss to the back of Gavin’s neck. “I’m impressed.” 

_There._

_That._

Hank’s approval. His genuine warmth. That was what Gavin needed in that moment—he needed Hank to praise him, to kiss him, to touch him—he needed his daddy, who loved him and forgave him for all the bad things he did because he couldn’t help it—he needed Hank—

He turned his face to the older man with a look of such longing even Gavin knew it was pathetic. But he couldn’t pretend to be anything else. Not when he was so close to climax, right on the edge, capable of going either way: Into sweet bliss, or into a breakdown. 

Hank saw that look. Understood it. 

He stroked Gavin’s face with the back of his hand and said, “You did a great job. You’re really a good kid, aren’t you?”

“Nnnnnnh—!” 

It wasn’t at all a human sound that came out of him. But that didn’t matter because Hank lowered the paddle even more and stroked his balls with it. Teasing them with the studs, making the skin along his balls prickle with excitement and vague anticipation. Hank kept going. He let the paddle slide up the underside of Gavin’s cock. Caressing him with it, touching him. Finally addressing the heavy need between Gavin’s legs. 

Just like he thought, it was more than enough.

Electrified by the soft stimulation, Gavin came. Fucking hard. Way harder than he intended, too hard to keep anything bottle up inside. Hank’s words echoed around his head, answering everything he was made of with just the right amount of praise. He felt like he was exploding. Like he was dying, maybe, like he was coming apart at the seams.

He said it.

“Thank you, Daddy!” 

Hank wrapped a hand around Gavin’s chest to keep him from flopping all over the place while he came. He held him in one spot and let him thrust against the paddle to get the touch he needed. He didn’t let Gavin go.

…His arms were stiff though. And there were no kisses. 

As Gavin’s orgasm began to subside, he started mewling. Twisting in Hank’s arms, wordlessly asking to be kissed. He wanted his daddy to kiss him and tell him it was okay that he came so hard, so early—

“What did you call me?” 

Oh. Right. 

Fuck. _Fuck_ fuck fuck…

Reality settled in and it fucking burned. Gavin gritted his teeth and burrowed closer to the sheets, not even caring that he was laying in his own wet spot. He just laid there on the bed—handcuffed—and tried to pretend like nothing happened. 

Maybe if he said nothing this would all go away. 

“Gavin?” 

Damn. Laying completely still, Gavin choked out, “It’s….nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

Hank sat on the bed next to him. But he felt so far away.

Gavin closed his eyes and tried not to listen to the voice in his head that kept saying how everything was ruined now. 

“It’s not nothing,” Hank argued softly. “I know what I heard.” 

Shit, was Hank really mad? Was he going to turn Gavin out in the street for this? Was everything going to be weird now, even at work? Had Gavin destroyed every last chance he’d had of scoring Hank as a dom because he’d said something that was probably really offensive? To Hank, anyway? (Considering everything he’d been through…)

“…sorry…” Gavin muttered, turning his face the other way. Fighting back tears. He was so fucking raw right now.

“You don’t have to be sorry…” Hank moved closer to him. He put his hand on Gavin’s back, right above where his hands were tied. “It’s just…”

Just what? 

Just that I’m a messed up piece of shit and you have no business fucking around with me? That I’ve been like this so long there’s no way I’d be able to fuck you and not mention it? That you deserve a lot better than some sick asshole in your bed—

“Here.” Hank undid the handcuffs and helped Gavin unfold his arms into a normal position. He massaged the feeling back into Gavin’s hands, taking them into both of his own one at a time. Rubbing them until Gavin could feel again. 

Those large hands were so gentle. It wasn’t even fair that Hank could be so rough—manhandling him into restraints, paddling him like a professional—and then so kind right afterwards. It wasn’t fair because it was exactly what Gavin needed in every fiber of his being. Something he’d never gotten quite like this before. Both in equal measure.

He didn’t even deserve—

Saying nothing, Hank rubbed down Gavin’s shoulders. Working out the stiffness there as well, coaxing the blood back into his muscles. He helped Gavin into a sitting position, swinging his arms back and forth to make sure they were alright. 

 “…You okay?” Hank asked. His blue eyes were trodden with concern. And that ever present sadness, more visible now than before.

“…I’m fine.” Gavin sat there. Unsure what to do. Should he leave? This was done, right? Maybe it was better to just get out of there before it got any worse. Slink back to his apartment with his tail between his legs, praying that nothing would come down on him at work. 

Hank blinked slowly. Staring at him. He didn’t seem affected by the awkwardness of the situation. More like he was trying to work something out in his head. It was a calculating stare in Hank’s own language. 

Gavin let himself be scrutinized. There was no point in trying to hide anything anymore.

Eventually Hank moved closer to him. He brushed his hand down Gavin’s cheek—not at all the kind of move Gavin had been expecting. His touch was still soft. Still comforting. 

“Did you mean to say it?” the older man asked in a quiet voice. Leaning his face close to Gavin’s, as if the intimacy could protect him from the embarrassment. In a way, it could. 

Gavin shook his head. “…no.” He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. They hadn’t talked about it first. 

Hank nodded. Screwing his mouth up on one side, he cupped Gavin’s face. Forcing them to make eye contact. “But you wanted to, right? You wanted to call me that from the beginning, didn’t you?” 

Yes, of course. A million times.

With Hank’s hand on his face, he didn’t have it in him to lie. So Gavin bit his lip and ever so slightly nodded.

A light turned on behind Hank’s eyes. Something like understanding and a small—tiny, fractional, barely there—piece of interest. 

“I figured.” He kissed Gavin’s forehead. 

Those lips made something break inside of Gavin. A fist he’d been keeping clenched for far too long. As it unfurled, it left him feeling numb. Almost lost. Afraid to make any kind of move. Only able to sit there and let Hank do whatever he was going to do. 

“It’s okay,” Hank rumbled. Kissing his head again. “It’s okay, I get it. I just…wasn’t expecting it. Kind of caught me off guard. But it’s okay.” 

Gavin wasn’t sure how to even apologize properly for something like that. He’d already tried and Hank shut him down. Besides, before he could say anything, Hank wrapped him in a hug. Letting Gavin lay his head on his chest. A place where Gavin could feel him breathe. A place he probably didn’t deserve but that Hank was giving him anyway. A warm place. Surrounded by Hank’s arms. His sweat, his smell, his girth. Everything. 

There wasn’t any anger here. 

Hank wasn’t mad. 

He was just getting used to the idea. And he still cared about Gavin. Arms like these— _hugs_ —were only for boys whose daddies loved them. Being allowed here meant that Hank must not have minded that much after all. He just needed time to adjust. Like he did with everything else.

That was okay. 

As things were, if Hank held him like this, Gavin would have no choice but to go into littlespace. Being smothered with attention, at a time when he needed it most, didn’t leave room for anything else. Nothing but the little kid inside Gavin that wanted to be loved _so much_ …

Hank held onto him. For a long, long time. Rubbing his back. Combing his fingers through Gavin’s hair. Kissing the top of his head every so often. 

So…

Everything else disappeared. Feeling accepted—like he could trust Hank, he could trust the man that punished him properly and then fixed him up afterwards—the other side of him came out. 

He was smiling now. Full of warmth, something he’d absorbed from Hank’s arms and chest. Warmth and the unbeatable feeling that if he fell, someone was there to catch him.

Gavin leaned up to whisper in Hank’s ear. “Can I say it again?” 

Without asking any questions, Hank kissed his cheek. “Yeah. You can say it if you want. Just…don’t hide anything else from me okay? Let’s get it all out there. Alright?” 

Gavin nodded and sat up on his knees. “ ’Kay,” he said brightly. Far too bright for an adult. “I won’t hide anymore. I promise.” 

Hank frowned when he heard the voice Gavin was using. But after a moment, his face cleared and he nodded. Breaking into a smile. “You better not. Otherwise I’ll have to spank you again.” 

Glee rippled through Gavin. _Yes, fucking a thousand times yes—_

He nodded with enthusiasm. Kissing his way down Hank’s neck, worshipping the beat of Hank’s pulse with his tongue. “I know. Don’t worry. I’ll be good, Daddy…” 

Hank grunted in the back of his throat when Gavin found the hard cock in his boxers. He played with it using both hands. Not too hard, just trying to get his daddy hard all the way. 

It worked. 

He tugged at Hank’s t-shirt and whined. Wanting to bury his face against Hank’s bare body, to lick him all over and give his daddy all the love in the world! To show how good he was…

Getting the hint, Hank took of his shirt. He scrambled out of his boxers too, tossing them on the floor. Gavin was immediately torn with a million desires. He wanted to suck Hank’s chest hair in his mouth. Make those gray hairs wet with spit. Watch them glisten. He wanted to jump in Hank’s lap and bury that cock as deep in his ass as he could—ride Hank until he came even half as hard as Gavin just had…

He wanted to hold onto Hank and never let go.

Unable to choose, Gavin tried to do everything. He mouthed Hank’s chest like a sloppy kid, moaning and fisting Hank’s dick as he went. It just felt so good in his hand. He couldn’t stop touching it!

“Fuck, kid…” Hank grumbled. “Stop that and turn around.” 

Of course, Gavin immediately did as he was told. He gave Hank his back and moaned when Hank wrapped him in another hug. Leaning his head backwards to lay on Hank’s shoulder. 

“Let me get you nice and ready first,” Hank crooned in his ear. 

He reached into the pile of toys and found the bottle of lube Gavin brought. Spread some on his fingers.  
  
“I’m gonna fuck you hard, Gavin. As hard as you’ve been asking me for this whole time.” He bit Gavin’s exposed shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like _I’ve_ been wanting to. Slow and deep. Until you can’t take anymore.”  

Gavin shivered and spread his legs wide. Instinct was taking over. He wrapped one hand around the back of Hank’s head. Keeping them pressed together. 

“Yes, please, fuck me Daddy!” 

“Mmmm…” Licking Gavin’s ear, Hank slid his slick hand underneath. He confidently slipped a finger into Gavin’s hole and started stretching. Poking at Gavin’s inner walls. Swirling his finger expertly. Knowing just what Gavin needed in order to be prepared.

“Ohh…” Gavin reveled in the attention. “You’re being so careful with me, Daddy…” Which was great, especially since his ass still kind of hurt from the pounding he’d just gotten. “But I want more…!” 

“I know, I know,” Hank murmured. Full of understanding. “Just let me take care of you, alright? You’re too excited to think straight. So I’ll handle everything.” He put in another finger and scissored him. “You just sit back and enjoy it.” 

By the time Hank pulled his fingers out, Gavin was already a mewling mess. Hank had found his sweet spot with no trouble at all, and he wasn’t shy about rubbing him there. He’d already gotten Gavin fully hard again, red and aching. Thirsty know only for one thing: Hank’s cock. 

Thankfully, Hank was happy to make that happen. 

He spread Gavin’s cheeks apart and lined his dick up to his entrance. Letting Gavin feel the pressure of his cockhead. “You ready?” 

“Yes! Yes yesyes—please! I’m ready now, Daddy!” 

So, Hank pushed in. He went slow—as slow as he promised—but he wasn’t teasing. He was just making sure that Gavin could take all of him….

Because he was _so_ fucking big. _Wide_. Gavin felt like he was gaping around that length—he might have actually torn, except for the fact that Hank prepared him first. Because he was a good daddy.

“There you go,” Hank groaned, inching his way in. “You’re doing great. Just keep taking it, just like that…yeah…” 

Gavin’s heart burst when he heard that. Daddy was proud of him! Moaning in joy, he held onto Hank and let himself be speared. All the way in, until he was fully seated. 

Oh god it felt so good…Hank was pressing up against everything inside of Gavin. His presence was impossible to notice. From his stomach to his bladder to his sweet spot to everything else. It felt like putting a beer can in his ass and that was a ridiculously amazing feeling. 

“Wow. You’re _so_ good, Gavin. Can’t believe you’re taking me so well…” Hank started thrusting. In and out, very slowly.

“Nnnnh….I love it, Daddy….” Gavin completely fell apart. He couldn’t handle that perfect fucking dick in his ass—stretching him until nothing else seemed at all important—and those words…Hank’s honesty…his own honesty. “Please don’t stop…!”

“I won’t,” Hank promised. “I won’t let you go…” 

His voice got gruffer as he started fucking him for real. _Deep,_ so deep Gavin couldn’t even speak. He thought he could taste Hank’s cock in his throat, that’s how goddamn deep he was. And that’s exactly where Gavin wanted him. 

There was so much pressure inside him…

He was babbling now. Words tumbled out of his mouth and Gavin had no control. 

“F-feels so good…! Want more…Daddy please! Please please, thank you! ….Thank you, Daddy…thankyouthankyou…!” 

Hank’s hands gripped the back of Gavin’s thighs. He spread him wider and picked up the pace. Pounding into him brutally now. Gavin couldn’t hold anything back, couldn’t keep anything in when he was this open and this turned on. Not when he had a daddy that could wreck him like this.

Wreck him with so much love.

Tears tumbled down Gavin’s face. “Th-thank y-you…” he moaned, at a loss for anything else. “ _Thankyousomuch_ ….!” 

“You’re welcome, baby. This what you wanted?” Hank growled. He was getting close to his own climax. “Fuck yeah it is…wanna make you feel good…”

Hank was adding to his thrusts by lifting and dropping Gavin on his cock over and over again. It added so much more depth, somehow. He was covering every single inch of Gavin’s sweet spot and it was out of control—

“I’m cumming, Daddy…! Gonna cum again!” He was. He so fucking was.

“Cum, baby.” Hank pushed him down harder onto his cock. “Go ahead. Cum hard for me…you’re getting me there, too…” 

There—somehow, at just such an angle, Hank pierced Gavin in a way that climax was inevitable. Maybe it was everything. The feeling building between them, their shared words. The scene. The emotional way this sex had started in the first place…but Gavin came. He came so hard he thought he was going blind—he couldn’t see anything for a long while. 

His body emptied itself of everything it had left. Every drop of cum left in him. He felt Hank let go too—and holy shit that was a lot in his ass. Felt like Hank hadn’t cum in a while because it was so much it filled Gavin’s stomach in a way that was almost uncomfortable.

Actually it was uncomfortable…

There was a moment’s pause after Gavin stopped cumming. Then, there was suddenly another pressure inside of him. Something far worse and infinitely more embarrassing—but he couldn’t stop it because there was _so much_ inside of him already—that thick cock, all his daddy’s cum, the space left in the wake of his own climax—

He was too open. Too full. And it needed to come out, he couldn’t hold it—

Crying out behind his teeth, Gavin pissed himself. And Hank. There was way more of it than he feared; he basically soaked the sheets and the blanket underneath them. Not to mention both of their laps. It went everywhere. 

If he’d thought that afternoon in the archives was embarrassing, that was nothing compared to this. This was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him in his entire life.

Took a few moments for Hank to realize. He was still coming down from his orgasm. Little by little though, he lifted his head. “Hmm?” he said, his legs twitching as they felt something warm trickling further down than the cum. 

He looked over Gavin’s shoulder and saw. “Did you just…?”

Gavin buried his face against Hank’s chest and cried. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I’ll clean it up, okay…just…” 

“Okay, okay.” Hank put his hand on Gavin’s head. Stroking his face. Calming him. “It’s alright. It happens. I mean I was fucking you pretty hard back there so…it’s fine. Relax.” 

…Seriously? Rubbing one eye, tears stopping, Gavin looked back at Hank. How could he possibly be okay with a surprise golden shower from a guy he’d already just fucked? Wasn’t Hank even a little bit annoyed…?

But he wasn’t. He didn’t even seem that uncomfortable, sitting there in the sweat and cum and piss. He took Gavin by the chin and kissed him on the lips. Delicately. Giving him space to pull away if he wanted to. 

“It’s alright, baby,” he repeated. “That was still really, really good.” He sighed. “I think I needed that just as much as you did.”

Trembling from an overload of emotions and pleasure and needs, Gavin wrapped his arms around Hank’s neck. Hoping beyond hope that Hank would never let him go. Not now, not ever. 

Never. Never ever. 

“And I’ll clean it up,” Hank offered, rubbing soothing circles into Gavin’s back. “It’s my bed. You go take a shower, alright?” 

Gavin nodded, bashful and obedient. Then he shook his head quick as he realized that meant he would need to let go of Hank. That wasn’t happening any time soon.

“Not yet,” he whispered in Hank’s ear.

Hank leaned back against the headboard of the bed. Getting comfortable, despite the all wetness and the grossness. “Alright. You take all the time that you need.”

So Gavin did.

_______________________________________________________

 The following morning, Gavin stood in Hank’s doorway. Fully dressed, completely refreshed after a good night’s sleep. On the bed. Right next to Hank. After a thorough shower and a fast change of the sheets. 

Gavin couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well. Of course, that was probably because he came so hard so many times (they’d gone another round in the shower after Hank cleaned the sheets, and then one more sleepy one before they went to bed). But also…he’d never spent the night with one of his doms before. And he hadn’t been expecting to spend the night now. 

But Hank had offered and well…Gavin wanted to stay. 

In fact, he still did. It was morning—11:00, almost afternoon—and he didn't know how to say goodbye. 

“So, umm…” He scratched the back of his neck and shifted the weight of the backpack on his shoulder. “…thanks, I guess. For like. Everything.” 

Hank immediately started laughing. Softly. He seemed to be in a really good mood. The sadness in his eyes was still there, but it was so much less now. Gavin liked seeing that.

Not that he could really look Hank in the eye. Not when he was still thinking about the things (everything) that happened the night before.

“You’re welcome, kid. Kind of feel like I should be thanking you too.” Hank nodded. “So, thanks.” 

What? Hank thought he needed to thank _him_? Wasn’t the score titled completely the other way when you considered everything…?

Whatever.

“Yeah, right.” Gavin shrugged and pulled two twenty dollar bills out of his pocket. He’d stashed them there earlier, waiting for this moment. Now he held the money out to Hank. “Here. For the food and stuff last night.” (By ‘stuff’ he kind of meant the sheets, but they didn’t need to talk about that in the daylight.)

At that, Hank frowned. He pushed Gavin’s hand away. “Come on, man. It was pizza and beer. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m not that cheap.” 

“Well neither am I, so—” He tried to force the money on Hank again. 

But Hank wasn’t having it. He swatted Gavin’s hand away at every turn. Eventually he just started closing the door on Gavin’s face “Get out of here with that. I’ll see you on Monday. Text me if you want to.” 

“Wait!” Gavin jammed his foot in the door. He didn’t want to leave like that! 

He pulled Hank into one last kiss. Forcing their lips together with the same passion from the night before—but not as desperate. He was more controlled now. More confident. He could finally kiss the way he wanted to now, instead of just mashing their mouths together and hoping something came of it. 

He also took the opportunity to slip the money into Hank’s boxers. 

Satisfied, Gavin forced himself to pull away. He pecked Hank on the cheek one more time before he left, just because he didn’t know another way to show him all the things he was feeling.

The things that weren’t going away any time soon. 

In the car on the way back to his own apartment, Gavin got a text. 

**Anderson:** _You’re an asshole._

Then came a picture of the money he’d left. And an emoji of the middle finger. 

**Anderson:** _Also, this is way too much. How much do you think pizza costs in Detroit?_

Gavin smiled triumphantly. Not only had he won that battle, but he had a wonderful way to start a new conversation with Hank. He hated being the one who texted first after a night together. Now he didn’t have to be.  

The only thing left to do was plan his response. He just had to decide how much of a brat he wanted to be.

As it turned out, Gavin generally liked being a brat to the guys he subbed for. When they weren’t fucking, of course. So that left him plenty of leeway. 

Good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3 These guys are just so right together. 
> 
> Anyway, I love every single person that read this story. Especially the folks who commented!! You guys made me feel like I wasn't completely insane, and that helped quite a bit ;) 
> 
> Thinking about continuing this story. Mostly just because I want to write more for these two, but also because I'm curious. What happens when Connor shows up...heheh. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Sweet big daddy cuddles to you all :) :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up [on tumblr](https://jeejascoffee.tumblr.com/) if you want.


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